The Art of Being Dead

by Stephen Clayton

Kieran isn’t someone that you’d want to meet on a dark night anywhere, let alone having him barge into your flat demanding sanctuary. A deeply disturbing tale about a quiet young man who gets out of his depth (or does he?) and how events spiral out of control (or do they?) Is Jonathan really that dull and stupid? Or is he manipulating Kieran and others out of some deep, existential angst? Makes you brood about the dark recesses of the human soul.


I watched him drink. I watched the pressure of his lips, the suction of his mouth and the regular beat of his Adam's apple. His head was thrown back, his hair hung over his shoulders and his skin gleamed pale and damp in the glow from the single lamp positioned by the side of my mattress - and suddenly I knew that he was telling me the truth. 'Who have you killed?' I said. 'I don't understand.'


The Outsider by Albert Camus
No Exit by Jean-Paul Sartre

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