Rob McCorquodale

Aspiring writer from Sussex UK.
I write fiction, poetry, basically anything that predicated my survival.
Love Philip k dick, Kurt vonnegut, Albert Camus, Voltaire, chuck palahniuk, huxley, orwell, William burroughs, jack kerouac.
Still trying to find a genre that I fall under.
Most of my pieces can be seen on my blog.
http://newpulpscribbling.blogspot.co.uk/?m=1
I like new challenging, unique work.

C. All work is my own. All characters, situations, themes, plots are of my imagination. There for I hold the right to these works. All rights reserved. C.2012.

Life in total.
2.

Through the tiny slit the electric buzz leaked out.
Out it flooded, joining its brother, sister, mother, cousin- celebrating in the torrid air- the ever present grey static air that sat over mass conurbation of London total.

Stretching from the south coast northward's, London total covered two...

531 words by R McCorquodale

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Published 10 years ago

The youth triumphant.

Part 1.

A
The undefined two of the singular peoples gang
walked with the power of two hundred,
in the swing of capital youth.
These the eminent revivalists of the glories role,
breathing as the only healthy lung left to live,
destroying the path, fanning it all to failed growth.

'We...

878 words by R McCorquodale

4 Comments
1 Likes

Published 10 years ago

In Field.

Setting out.

Its seems a lot slower. The day is wasted on me at present. And so I’m sitting in my room looking out at the field across the road. I’m thinking of drifting off. I’m thinking that the dream is tangible. Too stay and think and not too act is what I have. Too go, too jump, to run, to accelerate...

851 words by R McCorquodale

1 Comments
2 Likes

Published 10 years ago