Archive | March 2015

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Woman has spots. Chairs meeting anyway.

I have spots. They’ve been a part of my facial landscape since my teens. When aged about 13, a particularly spiteful Home Ec teacher (who I can only think took against me because of my incompetence around a Victoria Sponge) suggested to the class that spots like mine were the product of poor hygiene and […]

The Comfort of the Reaper Man. An ode to a Hero.

Reading material for a life-threatening illness..? Terry Pratchett’s Reaper Man – a tale about Death getting cheesed off with death and putting his talent with a scythe to use as a farm-hand named Bill Door – wouldn’t seem an obvious choice to cheer up someone fearing death. Nonetheless, when I was ailing in Southend Hospital […]

artificialis

It was dead at the gate. But she liked to pretend there was life. She looked out through the glass walls. A view across the tarmac. Before the quiet time, she’d have seen a scene of hustle bustle. Before. Miniature trucks shuttling luggage. Flashing lights. Rushing cars. Everyone in a hurry, hurry! People in ear […]