Category Archives: Writing

Man In A Thursday

There was once a man who lived in a Thursday. It was a small Thursday made from the leftover pieces of larger Thursdays people no longer wanted. The man was nothing if not thrifty, which is a weird expression if … Continue reading

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Write Turn, Clyde

Although I managed to get out to buy groceries yesterday I didn’t feel like I’d done anything more than drag my reluctant carcass to a dreary chore. When insomnia beat up on me all night I doubted Wednesday and I … Continue reading

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Even If It Was For Just One Day

Wouldn’t it be good to be in your shoes, even though they’re three sizes smaller than mine and I am bound to trip over on the six inch heels?  Nik Kershaw’s first draft, ladies and gentlemen. Other notable first drafts … Continue reading

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Cave Of Shadows

Eight days on from the news of my father’s death I find myself in uncharted waters. As I grapple with the need to forgive a ghost and lay some of my own ghosts to rest I am barely held together … Continue reading

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Triumph Of The Not Being Entirely Still

In defiance of the warning sign of ‘cake for breakfast’ I have been reasonably productive today. Mattress topper (not memory foam as I don’t want foam remembering all my secrets) bought and fitted for extra warmth and comfort. The replacement … Continue reading

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Information Reinforcement

Tuesday evening, just hooked myself up to the day’s third dose of IV antibiotic. It’s all routine now. The hand washing and the sterilising beforehand, the pressure required to flush the line with saline, the check to make sure the … Continue reading

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Eight-Size Foward

To sleep beneath contrarian skies, blind to the celestial ride for just a little while. It was not meant to enlighten but the sun broke through and the civil war of grey on blue is over. For now. One stumble-scuffed … Continue reading

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