Clik here to view.
Every grain of sand
We seem to have hit upon the perfect compromise this holiday. the three Blondies love the beach. I hate the beach. I like sitting in cafes and peoplewatching. They hate sitting in cafes and...
View ArticleClik here to view.
Repeat to fade
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shakingAnd a grey...
View ArticleClik here to view.
Shine on, you crazy diamond
Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun.Shine on, you crazy diamond.Now there’s a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky.Shine on, you crazy diamond. We can’t run away from...
View ArticleTake my hand
Here is my hand. And mine, with my heart in't The problem with The Girl being like me is that when we have a disagreement, it becomes a standoff. There can only ever be two losers. Food,...
View ArticleClik here to view.
To catch a leaf
Build your coffin of balsa woodSpend all that you earnWhen you go, you are gone for goodNever to return Have you ever read ‘Rivals’ by Jilly Cooper? Stop sneering. Jilly Cooper is a literary genius,...
View ArticleThe ghost in the machine
She dreamt of you last night. She dreamt of you as though you were real. She dreamt you were together, in full three dimensional form, no longer just words on screens, occasionally enlivened with...
View ArticleClik here to view.
The garden centre - a horror story
I don’t scare easily.* People especially don’t scare me. It’s more things that unnerve and unsettle me. A piece of haunting writing. A melancholy chord. The interior of West Runton church. But...
View ArticleClik here to view.
Michael Rosen's Sad Book
A rather wonderful thing happened on Friday morning. I was lounging around in bed, awake, but not yet functional, when The Girl came in, snuggled up next to me under the quilt and said ‘Mum?...
View ArticleLost in translation
My name is Lucy Benedict* and I am a people addict. I was going to say ‘I’m a people person’, but that would be a lie. I’m not. I’m shy, utterly lacking in confidence, and a compete introvert....
View ArticleClik here to view.
Liverpool Street Station
It’s not often you find a place that brings all sorts of people together. People from every walk of life, from all backgrounds, people with all sorts of futures ahead of them. Think about it. Even...
View ArticleMachineries of Joy
‘I know it’s happening all the time; I know the death squads are torturing people and the Israelis are behaving like Nazis and Pol Pot’s preparing his comeback tour; you keep telling us; you...
View ArticleNOT Black Friday
Oy! Are you feeling bit rubbish? Not really miserable or anything, just a bit flat, bit meh, can’t really be arsed? There’s stuff you should be doing, but uh, can’t be bothered… It’ll get done,...
View ArticleClouds that won't pass
He delights in torture, but he holds my hand, and never shields me. Because the best shield is to accept the pain. Then what can really destroy me? Let me close my eyes and lie invisible, and...
View ArticleScary Movie
A few weeks ago, I had to face up to something that I’d had been doing my utter best to avoid confronting. The Black Dog had returned. The fucker. All the signs had been there. Not sleeping....
View ArticleClickteasers
Email subject header: Put up with mane, you have a new follower on twitter! Oh, do I? I wonder who tha… Oh. It’s you. Again. Twitter’s a funny old place. I much prefer it to facebook if...
View ArticleThe Public Centipede
I’ll be honest. This started in a pub. I’d escaped the house over the Christmas holidays, and was trying to write in my local, aided by a pint and some biltong, when a couple sat at a table...
View ArticleThe Public Butterfly
On Sunday night I did something I’m not proud of. I deleted a blog post. Something I’ve done only twice before, when I unintentionally hurt people with what I’d written. It’s one of my Rules of...
View ArticlePost-Post Panic
So the last two weeks have been a bit weird, twatty bloggerwise. An overheard conversation in a pub, a bit of private kvetching, a post about Public Archaeology that went down like a cup of cold...
View ArticleThere are no words
There are no words. None. I can dress it up however I like, but at the moment, it just won’t come. I can’t write. I can’t think of things to write about. Even when I do, when the thought...
View ArticleClik here to view.
Pain Relief
‘Hands do what you’re bid; bring the balloon of the mind That bellies and drags in the wind, into it’s narrow shed.' I said there are no words. I lied. There are words. There is...
View Article