Everytime I go to bed, I can see the stain of green hair dye on the low ceiling, where you cracked your head whilst vigorously riding me – yelping, eyes clamped shut and a gaping smile on your face, sucking up all the oxygen in the room and leaving me gasping for spare atoms. Of course, you were thinking of someone else the entire fuck, I knew that even at the time, but beggars can’t be choosers. I didn’t choose to worship you. I’m an atheist. I didn’t plan on worshiping anything.
But as something tangible, you seemed a better bet than a concept designed to keep a feeble species in line. You kept me in line. And as feeble as I may also be, at least I could run my fingers down your stretchmarks; I could drag my nail over the little serrated dimples on your thighs; I could play with that mole on your hip and wonder at how it is surrounded by several smaller ones, a little solar system almost permanently hidden by the elastic of your underwear.
My deity was flesh; three day old mascara, a taste of cigarettes and last night’s bourbon and coke, with dark circles under your eyes from dancing your legs down to the knees, and the smell of the smoke machine in your greasy hair. After the end, I spent many evenings in that club, dancing with other girls whilst watching you over their shoulders – dancing alone, happily not giving a fuck.
Born in November 1983, I have been writing in some form or another for most of my life, but I began to take it seriously as a career around 2003/2004. Since then I have produced a novel, a novella and a series of short stories some of which are loosely linked into an overarching anthology.
Most of my stories come under the wide umbrella of ‘general fiction’, but I have experimented with genre pieces. My short stories tend to be bittersweet, nostalgic, sometimes melancholic and (on occasion) examine the darker side of human nature and obsessions.
I welcome you to my site Jimmi Campkin, and I hope you find something here to please you. If not, below you’ll find a big picture of me to scream obscenities at.
Reblogged this on erichmichaels and commented:
A fantastic vignette on human connection and it’s ephemeral nature at Sudden Denouement, by Jimmi Campkin “Painted Fingernails”
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Your work is always so Alive and real. I also like what you said about the MPDG.. There’s no cosplay here. Phenomenal writing!
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incredible work jimmi
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Thank you, and also for the reblog 🙂
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My great pleasure my friend 🙏
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Reblogged this on RamJet Poetry.
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what detail and homage. and such an obvious appreciation for what others would perceive as flaws. you make everyone love and hate them. this is what writing should be.
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I try and steer away from any notion of the ManicPixieDreamGirl. I’m only interested in people who are mostly real with an element of supernaturality….and sometimes malevolence.
Besides, who hasn’t looked like that after a hard weekend….?
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Wonderfully matter of fact
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Thank you sir 🙂
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Holy Hell, this is incredible, I fucking love it.
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Thank you so much. It is humbling to hear such strong passion for my work 🙂
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Reblogged this on Brave and Reckless and commented:
Jimmi Campkin takes us back in time.
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“I didn’t choose to worship you. I’m an atheist. I didn’t plan on worshiping anything.” I am so in love with this line. The piece is visceral and biting and contemplative and sweaty and I love it.
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You write about how love and sex should be. It’s fleeting and fucked and so lucid. It’s broken way and it’s perfect.
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You are, as ever, too kind sir.
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What SK said!
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🙂
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Love it too. Didn’t expect not to.
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Thank you very much 🙂
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Reblogged this on Kindra M. Austin and commented:
“I didn’t choose to worship you. I’m an atheist. I didn’t plan on worshiping anything.” Head over to SD and show Jimmi some love.
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I love this…and she sounds fab!
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She was..
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