“We’re lost.” “No, we’re not.” “Yes we are. We have been lost for ages now.” “The hell we are! I put the details in the satnav. I’m not stupid you know,” “No, you’re called a Wise Man for nothing,” comes
Currently browsing: Santa Stories
Dreams of Sugarplums and Codeine
I have been hit by a truck. A big one. One carrying concrete blocks and which, having once succeeded at running over my noggin, then needed to reverse and go over it again. I groan. My head may be split
A Quieter Reunion
The train station is packed and filled with the hustle and bustle of people on their way to and fro. Offices on one end, couches with soft spots and children and socked-feet perched on the sides of coffee tables. Emails
When Christmas Comes To Town
When the going gets hard, I rely on top secret Walter Mitty-like dreams to get me through. Sometimes I win a Pulitzer. Sometimes Oprah is on the couch, crying, telling me that my book changed her life. Sometimes I am
Mighty Mighty Union
I am freezing. Beyond freezing. I’ve been freezing since 4am this morning when I woke up freezing and tried to hug my freezing form against a nuclear-radiated Angus, trying to be careful to not wake him up with my freezingness
Thanks for commenting