Rain On The Window
As a guilt-ridden middle-class politics student, she needed a working-class hero, and I… well, at the time, I had nothing better to do.
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- 2268 reads
15th June
It is my birthday. I am cushioned by French teenagers Rifling playing cards. It is my birthday. I know my dad will buy me chick lit And I will have to smile. It is my birthday.
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- 1011 reads
23rd June
I see you careening Yellow eyed, lost and Vague through fields Studded with road racers, Neon moustaches And half delivered falafels. One-eyed witches proferring
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- 1093 reads
Leeds Station
The 'Garment Doctor' fails to spark a smile and my spleen tantrums in sloe berry explosions, popping as each departure is called. A sign for 'Emotional Engineering' is not meant for me,
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- 961 reads
Three Mile Drove, Chapter Sixteen
Three Mile Drove Chapter Sixteen
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- 1100 reads
chapter thirteen: memory lane
It had been three months and we still hadn’t exchanged any form of communication, as per the anti social behaviour order. Three months. Ok, so I had reduced the obsessive compulsive stuff.
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- 785 reads
Heatwave
Claire had only known Petri for three months before he moved into her small top floor flat. Friends attributed her impulsiveness to the heat. It was the hottest summer in living memory.
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- 638 reads