In a bun dance

If I'm going to get something, I usually get it in spades - luck (both kinds), children, clutter, dirty laundry, bright ideas, daft ideas...

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89 words

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There goes another week. Just one of 4,000 that, apparently, I’ll have if my life stretches out an average length. You would think that after considerably more than 2,000 I would know how they go, yet, every single week’s opening starts with me hopping up and down on the starting line – this is the […]

107 words

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Everyone has an opinion about my life – how I live and why. Who’s there and – more importantly – who isn’t. They care what I do and with whom. I’m too old, too young. Working too hard and not doing enough. Who would I be if I didn’t care what they thought? After all […]

103 words

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Tired. You know how people who have been starved don’t ever have quite the same relationship with food? I don’t mean a bit peckish or even a few pounds lighter after a dirty weekend with the lurghy. No. Proper rib-counting, eye-sinking malnourisment that they didn’t ask for. These people will hoard tins and packets, just […]

97 words

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When I’m busy, I want to be stuck on a broken train, in a power cut, on an island where the ferries can’t run. Just make it stop, I beg. However, when it’s calm, I pace the perimeters looking for diversion and wishing for a voice, an explosion, an anything to crash over the silence […]