The newspaper experiment

August 31, 2013

Before I got off the train this morning I placed my newspaper deliberately on a seat, knowing another passenger would eventually pick it up. On the front page I had written my phone number, with a message to “call me”. At 09:23 my phone rang. It was a wrong number.


** not my real number!



August 30, 2013

I do.



Firmly rooted to the ground on tracks of steel that feel safe, solid, dependable. I sit quietly with time on my hands, to read a book, drink some coffee, even sleep if I wish. My fellow passengers interest me too. Where are they going I wonder?


** bring back British Rail


Stop the cull

August 29, 2013

The badger lifted his snout and sniffed the night air. The scent of something sinister drifted his way, though he didn’t yet know what. And then he heard the first bang, followed by another. In terror the whole sett ran, directionless and afraid, and began to fall, one by one.



** find out more about the badger cull and please sign the petition to help stop it.


August 28, 2013

I don’t.



Claustrophobic tubes of people, crammed in, no way out. Even the rituals of aeroplane travel make me nervous. Passport control, security checks, don’t be late! But I’ll tell you something, when I’m lying on that beach tomorrow, sipping a perfect Margarita, it’ll all be worth it.


** I wish!

The new tattoo

August 27, 2013

“I knew I’d have another,” she told the artist. “That’s what they all say,” he smiled. “I thought I’d go for something traditional this time though.” She produced a line drawing of a swallow. “What do you think?” “I love it,” he said, preparing her inner wrist for some ink.

Bird_tattoo border

Ode to Wilko

August 26, 2013

Last night I saw a dying man perform his songs. Dying, yet in his final days he is more alive than most have ever been. Having already accepted the inevitable, he is freed, somehow, from what the rest of us mere mortals fear the most. Respect to you, Wilko Johnson.


** We love you, Wilko


August 25, 2013

“Seven deadly sins?”

“Count them: lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath and envy.”

“That’s only six.”

“The last being the worst of all: pride.”

“What’s wrong with pride?”

“Nothing, normally. But you’re so self-important you think the world revolves around you. And that makes you automatically guilty of all seven sins.”


** apparently pride is the source of all the other sins.


August 24, 2013

My desire for my neighbour’s possessions is out of control. Everything he owns is better than mine, I need to have them for myself. His car, his barbeque, even his kids’ trampoline is bigger, better and more impressive. My angry, nagging wife thinks I’m insane. I want his wife too.



August 23, 2013

To say she was prone to violent mood swings was an understatement. Her outbursts were of the frighteningly self-destructive kind. She was never sorry afterwards either, having ranted and raged and abused the ones she loved the most. Her relationships suffered in every way imaginable. She felt broken, angry, alone.



August 22, 2013

“I’m off to pick the kids up now, but I’ll get the shopping on the way.”

“Great, see you later.”

“Could you mow the lawn while I’m gone?”

“Sure, no problem.”

As the door closes I look into the garden and then switch on the TV. The lawn can wait.