DFP - Steve Coel
Early draft samples from 'No Paths' - Steve Coel, An 11.59 Publication ( Festival Request )
Experimental Short Fiction - Documenting through a fictional mirror, responses to the world around us...these MicroFlashFiction experiments are (nearly) always intuitive and spontaneous...Recent Publications include: No Paths (2026), UnEven Street + Walking Notes (2026) and Half Stolen Buildings (2025) - Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication: Ingot Studios, Birmingham https://ingotstudios.wordpress.com/
No Paths - Illegal Fragrance (2026)
DFP - Steve Coel
Illegal Fragrance
Here -
Where...dining room corners are secretly guarded..
Where...tightly held anonymous bottles conceal early morning agendas..
Where...rusted chainsaw vans clutter side-street rumbled warehouse..
Where...cheap illegal fragrances batter muted steel trimmed trolley romance..
Where...unseen security walking is never invisible..
is the place language comes to die.
Experimental Short Fiction - An 11.59 Publication, Birmingham
From The Mercy Path (2020)
Text: Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
Experimental short fiction in poetry form...
No Paths (2026) - Hollow Buildings
DFP - Steve Coel
Hollow Buildings
Here -
Where...hollow buildings shadow painted moment..
Where...dull flowers pilfer hedgerow litter..
Where...warehouse beams trap steel smile and welded arm..
Where...daily trauma functions alongside passing rumour..
Where...lost faces merge with condemned brick..
is the place language comes to die.
No Paths (2026) - Hidden Rumour
DFP - Steve Coel
Hidden Rumour
Here -
Where...spirited cloth tightly holds hidden defence..
Where...painted step reveals rusted night-time dancing..
Where...burnt time walking becomes wall shy and forced..
Where...open doors disperse rumour of stolen memory..
Where...expensive remarks are fake..
is the place language comes to die.
No Paths (2026) - Hedged Whisper
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DFP (2026) - Steve Coel
Hedged Whisper
Here -
Where...misled concrete steps shape movement towards shattered corner stall..
Where...brittle smiles are forced reminders of drafted opportunity..
Where...roomed time is measured through medication and juiced meal..
Where...coated weather is blossomed and publicly stooped by hedged symphony..
Where...trip wire walking elevates cloudy watered decision..
is the place language comes to die.
No Paths (2026) - Grilled Walls
Grilled Walls
Here -
Where...saw dust machine driving is echoed across water and back yard..
Where...rusting district wires hang bird mirage nested along defined grid route..
Where...illegal paper is scratched from power grilled wall and street light post..
Where...stained half lit drinking rooms spill simple ideas on to wooden floor..
Where...dry air cycle pavement dealing is fence chain bagged..
is the place language comes to die.
No Paths (2026) - Grey Water
Grey Water
Here -
Where...hollow buildings shadow painted monument...
Where...decaying plastic childhood lies perched on slopes of tall stripped tree...
Where...repaired jigsaw roads wait for seasonal pacing and frosty mornings...
Where...starched wrinkled skin sticks to stretched bone...
Where...daily traumas function alongside hidden rumour...
is the place language comes to die.
No Path (2026) - Grey Sky Weeping
Grey Sky Weeping
Here -
Where...isolation is frequently park benched behind littered garden..
Where..sweet song is car windowed..
Where...sprayed agenda becomes wire caged in overgrown broken side street..
Where...twisted knuckle bus stop waiting is grey sky weeping..
Where...gated steel business doors welcome alien van sacks..
is the place language comes to die.
No Paths (2026) - Greedy Laughter
Greedy Laughter
Here-
Where...filmed movement is bound by derelict building and deadwood fire..
Where...silent conversations are concerned and paper free..
Where...official tattooed authority is broken by wired library bench seat..
Where...early evening heron fishing gets plastic bag poison water netted..
Where...greedy laughter clings to painted doorway shadow..
is the place language comes to die.
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No Paths (2026) - Frosted Vision
Frosted Vision
Here -
Where...narrow lane adventures are captured in muddy headlight and cry of tortured bird..
Where...broken lives are inherited..
Where...evening shadows lie distressed on ripped rock and moss border..
Where...isolated youth walk through decades of frosted vision..
Where...small trees blanket fallen brick..
is the place language comes to die.
No Paths (2026) - Fractured Acre
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Fractured Acre
Here -
Where...slim concrete staircases funnel nervous jealous glances..
Where...starched wrinkled skin sticks to stretched bone..
Where...young people die old..
Where... unopened doors fade into peeling brick and small bottled yard..
Where...glum dance patters aggressively on fractured acre..
is the place language comes to die.
No Paths (2026) - Escape Bags
Escape Bags
Here -
Where...painted grief remains peeled along rubbished waterway..
Where...stabbed fist gestures halt illegal commerce..
Where...distorting voices emerge from collapsed shop door crowd..
Where...coin bagged exchange between enemies is shaped by secret patterned movement..
Where...loose clothing slopes into hidden wood seeking instant escape..
is the place language comes to die.
...we should all read Experimental Short Fiction...
Lee Mackenzie, Poet, Artist
No Paths (2026) - Dull Flowers...Etched Arm
Dull Flowers
Here -
Where...yesterdays comical events sit buried in vintage blue cement..
Where...blistered streams fall into backyard shed..
Where...dull flowers pilfer hedgerow litter..
Where...stone-engined vehicles bruise centre lane grass..
Where...weightless men saunter into cotton hospital shroud..
is the place language comes to die.
Etched Arm
Here -
Where...ripped memory is etched into electric wall..
Where...enveloped escape payments lie forgotten..
Where...plastic bag purchase is photographed and questioned..
Where...traffic stamps impatiently along ditched street..
Where...broken fence literature is sprayed on machined older arm..
is the place language comes to die.
No Paths (2026) - Drunken Memory
Drunken Memory
Here -
Where...small feet carry heavy living..
Where...polluted idle engine blows rust water into tipped gutter..
Where...emergency words remain anonymous..
Where...stone roof collapse haunts drunken memory..
Where...rock pocket begging is sandwiched between road crossing and loose fingers..
is the place language comes to die.
No Paths (2026) - Crow Time Feeding...Daytime Sleeping...Deaf Ear
Crow Time Feeding
Here -
Where...recycled daytime hiding is scripted into knifed tree bark..
Where...reckless noise making is brutal and metal knuckled..
Where...vape bloodied cafe gardens groan beneath rusted leather footstep and betrayed seating..
Where...crow time feeding is weed killer gravelled..
Where...small group silence rejects courtyard posters and charity reclaimed allotment..
is the place language comes to die.
Daytime Sleeping
Here -
Where...shielded discount aisles are glued together with spiced smile and free news..
Where...stickered metal bollards herd cheap early morning trainer shoe..
Where...daytime sleeping is bagged with tourist litter..
Where...each stuttering step is guided by habit..
Where...whiskered waterway trees hang on singing electric wire..
is the place language comes to die.
Deaf Ear
Here -
Where...loyalty is sought and funded through dark glass..
Where...anger is buttery..
Where...doorstep begging is hasty and youthful..
Where...brave words are thrown away with cheap lager and soapy gritted water..
Where...curled up broken yard hideaways become legend..
is the place language comes to die.
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