NEW FICTION:

He was dark venom with a bloated cupid lip and a hard glint of an eye. He lay on the bed - full prone, staring at the ceiling - and beyond. His lips moved in familiar patterns, but no one heard - nor were they meant to. He frowned to himself and the world. His lips stopped - forming the perfect pout he had practised. He turned on his side and stared with half-drawn eye at his reflection in the old wardrobe mirror. He smiled - more sardonic than blissful. He was an engine of poison, an angel with a heart of pure silver - locked and bolted against intrusion. Everything else - he stared hard at his reflection, everything else... he blinked slowly, immersed within his own venom... everything else was just fire and conflagration.