RUGBY KISSES

A battered rugby ball with scuffed leather, faded white laces, and grass stains smeared across its seams, resting alone at the center of a muddy pitch. Around it, crushed aluminum cans, a cracked shot glass, and a single lipstick-smeared napkin lie scattered in disarray. Harsh stadium floodlights slash across the scene from above, carving deep shadows and glinting off wet mud puddles. Photographic realism, shot from a low, close-up angle with shallow depth of field, so the ball looms large and the wreckage blurs into a chaotic haze. The mood is bold, raw, and on the edge of collapse, balancing dark humor with a sense of looming fallout.

Author Themes

Darkly comic fiction about addiction, relapse, and the fragile hope of staying just barely alive.

About

RUGBY KISSES follows a charming disaster staggering through addiction, bad decisions, and near-misses, where every relapse is punchline and warning. Drawing on lived experience, the author turns rock bottom into brutal, addictive comedy.

Read excerpt
An overturned, scratched metal locker door hanging half-open in a dim, grimy locker room, its paint chipped and dented from years of collisions. Inside, a neatly folded, pristine rugby jersey glows under a streak of cold fluorescent light, surrounded by empty prescription bottles, crumpled betting slips, and a single crushed rose. Condensation beads on the tiled walls, and a flickering light overhead casts intermittent, jittery shadows. Photographic realism, wide-angle lens from an eye-level perspective, with the jersey centered in the frame as the quiet, ironic heart of the chaos. The atmosphere feels tense, sardonic, and moments away from spiraling further out of control.
A rain-slicked city alley at night, asphalt shining like black glass beneath a neon pub sign shaped like a rugby ball, its buzzing red and purple light stuttering in the drizzle. At the alley’s mouth, a crooked sandwich board leans against a wall, chalk-scrawled with the title “RUGBY KISSES” surrounded by rough hearts and tally marks. Empty bottles glitter in puddles, and a dented metal trash bin overflows with torn flyers. Photographic realism, cinematic wide shot with deep depth of field, capturing the claustrophobic walls closing in. The lighting is moody and contrasty, with neon reflections warping in the water, creating a bold, grimly hilarious atmosphere of romantic collapse and late-night bad decisions.
A narrow, cluttered bedside table in a cheap motel room, its faux-wood surface scarred with cigarette burns and ringed drink stains. On top, a half-drunk bottle of amber liquor, a blister pack of pills spilling across a dog-eared, highlighter-marked manuscript labeled “RUGBY KISSES.” A cracked digital alarm clock glares 3:47 AM in lurid red, reflecting off the glossy cover page. Sodium-orange streetlight seeps in through thin curtains, mixing with the sickly glow of a lone bedside lamp to create harsh, cinematic contrast. Photographic realism, shot from a slightly elevated angle, tight composition emphasizing clutter and texture. The mood is darkly comic, exhausted, and teetering on the edge of disaster and inspiration.
A pristine white porcelain sink in a dingy bathroom, its rim splattered with red lipstick smears and faint traces of blood diluted by swirling, ink-dark water spiraling toward the drain. Beside the faucet, a rugby mouthguard chewed nearly to pieces rests against a small, elegant perfume bottle tipped on its side, leaking a few shimmering drops. Overhead, a single bare bulb casts unforgiving, clinical light, every crack in the tiles and fleck of grime surgically exposed. Photographic realism, close-up composition with the drain on the rule of thirds line, shallow depth of field blurring the far tiles. The mood is savage, intimate, and morbidly funny, capturing the brutal romance of self-destruction with sharp, unflinching clarity.
A battered rugby ball with scuffed leather, faded white laces, and grass stains smeared across its seams, resting alone at the center of a muddy pitch. Around it, crushed aluminum cans, a cracked shot glass, and a single lipstick-smeared napkin lie scattered in disarray. Harsh stadium floodlights slash across the scene from above, carving deep shadows and glinting off wet mud puddles. Photographic realism, shot from a low, close-up angle with shallow depth of field, so the ball looms large and the wreckage blurs into a chaotic haze. The mood is bold, raw, and on the edge of collapse, balancing dark humor with a sense of looming fallout.

“Ferocious, hilarious, and unflinching—RUGBY KISSES made me wince, laugh, and question every bad habit.”

— Aya Nakamura