Tag Archives: being

MY PERFECT LIFE?

Posted on by under 2025, October 2025 - The Good Life

Prison counsellor Richard Wilson peered through thick lens glasses at prisoner Wilf Watts, a small scrawny old man with a full head of silver hair, his eyes appearing open and honest. Wilf had been sentenced to four years for offences that lead to him being a local hero within the prison. Leaning forward Richard  asked,  ‘Would you like to explain the circumstances that led to you being here, Wilf?’

Wilf settled back in the armchair, thinking for a moment: ”It’s like this, you see my wife died last year. Wonderful women she was, my Margey. We were married for over forty years, she did everything for me. Sold our home as I couldn’t live there without her, bought myself one of those mobile homes and travelled all over. It is what she wanted. Found it a bit lonely to be honest.  Then some bugger stole it, I lost everything and had a hard time getting even a little bedsit. The police were useless, didn’t do a thing, the insurance company gave me the runaround.

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Rat Poison

Posted on by under 2025, April 2025 - The List

HOUSEHOLD

?Rat Poison?

Tilly had forgotten her specs. She hadn’t transferred them from the pocket of her winter fleeced Danimac to her summer cotton jacket. Always the same with April weather in Swansea; an overnight rise of 8 degrees meant searching out the summer wardrobe with the risk of  a disruption in “ the system.” House keys, shopping list, pouch containing store cards and bus pass were in the left pocket as usual, but no glasses.

“Mum your phone should be in a separate pocket from keys. The screen could get scratched” Moira’s words. 

Having a “system” was as important as having a shopping list … and being able to see, Tilly’s thoughts reposted.

“Never get your phone out in public.” her daughter’s words again.

Well Tesco’s <Household> aisle is hardly The Kingsway,

Tilly acted. Needs must. The snufflings, rustlings and scratchings from the bedroom next door were getting too much; she had hardly slept for the past three nights. Every year when the weather changed, it happened. Squinting around she spied a blurry Dad and toddler at the far end searching amongst the plastic buckets. Not a risk. Tilly extracted the mobile from her right jacket pocket, stooped, chose panoramic mode and photographed the bottom 2 shelves, then cranking herself back up zoomed-in to examine in detail the latest pics in her Gallery app.

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Black Honey

Posted on by under 2025, February 2025 - Rescue

She’s a good egg, our Fi. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be suitable for the job. That’s why we allow her keep us. We are the keepers of the keepers.

We see everything. When we buzz around waggling to one another, we’re not only chasing nectar. We’re assessing the mental state of the people and communicating potential danger. Forget being a ‘fly on the wall.’ Flies don’t care. It’s the bees who watch, listen and help.

Take Ian Jones next door. He had a near-miss with death only last month. He was smoking a cigarette beside the azaleas in his front garden whilst I busied myself with the foxgloves. What’s dangerous about that, you ask, aside from the obvious? It’s true that the smoking will get him eventually, but that’s not the sort of thing we get involved in. On this occasion I could tell from his stance, the faraway look in his eyes, and the slightly acidic smell of his perspiration, that he was planning on this being his last cigarette before taking his own life. Well, those things and my complex assessment of his mood over recent weeks.

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Petulant Child

Posted on by under 2023, Dec 2023 - Misfortune

My mother tells me my middle name should be misfortunate. She blames it on my being born on Friday the 13th, sliding into the world feet first, causing her intense pain, which she still remarks on today.

”AS IF ITS MY FAULT I DIDN’T ASK TO BE BORN”

I had the misfortune to have very curly brown hair and green eyes, unlike the rest of my family. Mother is still convinced that I was swapped at birth.

”SURELY SHE CAN’T BE SERIOUS!”

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