I like stories. Full of everything-real and colour. Small, heavy words soaked with life. Words you can’t find in a dictionary and couldn’t spell even if you tried. Words that mean more than they ought – because they’re so little and all. I want to be a storyteller. But my tone is never right. My
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Pa spent the day on the mountain. Fixing his mother’s grave. His hands have kept it from sinking…for years. No one knew where he was. A man of 70. Of five heart attacks and so much more. Ma worried. She wrung her hands and waited. When he came home she asked him where he’d been?
Royal Courts of Justice. The Strand Sometimes I come here for work. A few of the halls and entrance ways are powerful and posh but for the most part, it’s all built-for-purpose and pretty underwhelming*. You’d never know, if you just came in through the main gate. All those paintings and suits of armour and
When I was 25 I spent the summer in the South of France. —– Nicky was a homeless rich kid who drove an overpriced sports car and blew his allowance on other necessities (i.e. gambling and girls). We became friends because he sometimes dated my housemate Claire, and lived in her room even when she
Lunch was air and bellinis. Three thirtysomethings and me (I’m holding tight to 29). Chaz is in PR. She’s good at it. They say she sold ice to an Eskimo. Twice. Luisa’s a banker. Investment. City firm. Chasing that £2million bonus. Julie’s the lawyer. She hates it, but she likes the money. The power. The
The Grudge. It’s that movie. You know the one. Sarah Michelle Gellar gets scared in Japan. Those Japanese directors really get it. They know there’s one thing scarier than the run and get killed, my pretty that we have in the west. Kids. Kids are scary as hell. That Ring movie – stupid. Still, I
I’m too tired to make sense. Too tired to be creative and talk in a voice that isn’t mine. I’m back in the belly of the Corporate Beast (Let’s kill all the lawyers*) and my brain is already cooked to a tinder. A few things I’ve been reminded of this week. One. Some people have
“…. is killing me.” Driving the road was like driving through a mine field. Mining was destroying the land. Leveling and laying bare the world’s oldest havens. Ancient rivers. Glaciated mountains. Time had softened their edges. Eroded their heights. Coal companies set out to destroy the rest. Surface Mining. Mountain top removal. It had many
Sometimes a girl feels like pretty and a chippie. I can’t do the fish & more because I’m Livin La Vida Thurmond. But I can do pretty, and I can do it in a list. I read this morning that the average British woman spends over £180,000 (Transatlantic Translation: $302,400) in a lifetime on beauty
She was tired of being old. Tired of dressing head to toe in what use to be. Memories of a mother. A husband. He’s my heart, and I’m gonna see him soon. A father that never really was. Tired of not yet going where she knew she belonged. Her name was Belle, and she would
I was born in a little knock about town by the Tug Fork of the Big Sandy River. Some time before people came along the Appalachian Plateau was carved up for residency by the mountain waters. Not the second-run kind that Dewey got liquored up on at 160 proof; but the kind that leaked into