The eyes have it

“The eyes have,” cried the speaker. “The eyes have it.”

The members of the house remained quiet, unable to watch as wooden hands emerged from the front bench, dragging her in. She let out a scream, silenced as her throat turned to wood.

The speaker looked to the empty place on the bench where the Prime Minister had sat. The fallen ministers returning his gaze. “The eyes have it,” he sighed.

As with all wee cards this week, The original drawing of The Eyes Have It is available on Etsy for £5. Linky:

After three years of cocking up and Brexit, the unelected Prime Minister, Theresa May, has finally been forced out by her own party. There are only two good things about her tenure. First, it takes grit to stand up and give speeches with that many knives sticking out of her back. Second, she’s better than Boris Johnson, who’s poised to take her position.

Hmm, that’s not really good things is it? Oh well, another squatter evicted from 10 Downing Street.

For those outside the UK who may not get the ‘eyes have it’ reference. ‘The ayes have it’ is a phrase used by the Speaker, Mr John Bercow, during parliament after vote results.

Cheers to Warren for the continued $10 Patronage. Want to support the Fears or nobble books, art and merch? Find me on Ko Fi, Patreon, Etsy, Amazon, Skillshare and Threadless.


Masked Sin

By Jay-lyn Doerksen

On my shoulders
carrying the weight
dreams broken
left dying at my feet
tears gathering
never falling
staring into the mirror
hollowed eyes
what can I say?
You haunt me
my dreams
my desires.
I want to walk forward
forge a path
but there you are
foiling my way.
Smoked delusions
lay back
watch starlight dance across the sky
I hurt
take a deep breath
my pain
pushed down
until forgotten.
Not forgotten
smile plastered
heart breaking
you pass me by
I wish you happiness
while I sink to my knees
memories overwhelming
one after another
veins slashed
no blame
no guilt
I need to be free…..
free of pain
of hatred
of life…..
Bend not before my grave
raindrops hard
no salve for your conscious.
threaded black and blue
you might hit me
curled inwards
words pierce
slaughtering my soul
my heart.
Good night
my sweet prince.
Come just a little closer
lean in
feel that blade slip between your ribs.
Fall to knees
cold grief
stand above
should have told you
I am a psychopath.

Story by Jay-lyn Doerksen of Check out Jay’s blog for more poetic poems. Thanks for the spooky vibes, Jay!

Thanks to Warren for the $10 Patronage

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Dear Illustrator

Capricorn (ep. 84)

Dear Illustrator

Residents are reminded that rubbish is to be placed out front of the block after 6 pm Thursdays. No recycling or items over 1 metre allowed.

I would also like to remind you, pets are not allowed in any apartments. Whatever is, we can hear it.

We sacrifice David on the altar in the basement at midnight on Friday.

Tea and biscuits will be served afterwards.

Kind regards


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New Hat

Capricorn (ep. 83)

“New hat?” asked Winston.

“Yeah,” said Charlie, twiddling his new trilby to the room. “Got it off an eBay house clearance for £1.20! It’s got a name tag for a Michael in it, but otherwise, it’s mint.”

“Reminds me of your old one,” said Winston.

“Yeah, that’s why I got it. Nostalgia grabbed me!” said Charlie. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Any chance I could have a Green Vesper?” asked Winston.

“Yeah sure,” said Charlie. Charlie had no idea how to make cocktails or mix drinks.

Michael did though.

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Bunny Hunt

Capricorn (ep. 82)

He looked at the cage. He hated that rabbit. It’s white fur and ruby-red eyes. They burned in the dark. Most children his age liked Easter. He hated it. He knew what happened to the neighbour’s cat last year. He wondered if his parents knew. Probably not, they were too busy out drinking at that bar. He heard the latch coming loose on the hutch. He watched the rabbit as it left the room on tonight’s hunt. Easter bunnies should be feared.

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