Mr Bleaney bagged the latex jumpsuit And stashed the hold-all in the usual hedge. Pushing open the guesthouse door his stoop returned. He tripped slightly on the wedge

I sneak up behind you and put my hands on your sides, kissing the back of your neck, holding you by the hips pulling you into my stiffness.

"Bob bowling?"

Throughout the morning, a woman learns to listen through her baby's ears.

Somewhat sarcastically titled, an arrogant and serious piece about issues against the idea of making all abortions illegal, written as a specific letter to anti-abortion politicians and preachers.

I took her to the sea side for a night at an over-priced B&B with a sea view of dustbins and the car-park.

It's a powerful thing.

Don't get involved