Wake half -hour early, for eldest son to rally; neither of us are larks. Bake the baguette he’ll eat for lunch, having remembered to remove tikka from freezer the night before.

When I get home I am too tired to think, too tired to be patient, too tired to notice whether you kiss me or not.

I'm allergic to the medication so I have to ride out an attack.

something... or nothing...

A piece of whimsy

One of my early experiments in story design.

There’s nothing Ricky Steenkamp liked more than to fuck, shoot and drink. His Jeep was his home. It had to be, he was kicked out of the other.