Tag Archives: who

Ruin

Posted on by under 2024, April 2024 - Ruin

I’ve developed a grudging respect for my disease, it’s merely  fighting to survive same as me; both of us were unwitting guinea pigs of doctors  who misdiagnosed us, then prescribed inappropriate treatment, courtesy of the deplorable Sackler family.  It was an osteopath in the end  who felt the adhesions under my skin, with more skill in her fingertips and common sense than the scores of medics who had assessed me before. What precisely are they trained for if they can’t spot a disease as common as diabetes that only occurs in women?

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Crossing the Road

Posted on by under 2024, Feb 2024 - Crossroads

At times of maximum danger, panic may seem like a rational response.  Jess didn’t panic for long, but she was aware of an urgency. She wasn’t the only one facing this dilemma. There were a number of MS sufferers like her (and others who were slow walkers or who needed aids like sticks and wheelchairs) who viewed navigating the hectic road and cycle lane to reach the shops, community and health centres with trepidation.

There was already a zebra with a middle island but this depended on the speed and courtesy of drivers. What with cars parked on pavements and few ramps, life was fraught for those with mobility challenges. So, Jess was on her way to discuss what could be done to make the act of crossing the road less of a problem.

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God save us

Posted on by under 2023, October 2023 - The Curse

The storm clouds are gathered just to starboard, forcing us further and further west. The sun, lurking around the horizon and casting golden and amber hues, hasn’t set in what feels like eleven hundred days, although it’s tough to tell. We’ve given up counting, after the crude marks we’d scratched into the deck mysteriously vanished.

Time hasn’t frozen, so much as slowed to a crawl. The fluttering and rustling of the sails proves there’s still a tailwind; the creaks and groans of wood as waves lap around us, and the swells of the waves we ride, are enough to evidence that. Our crew, fractious at the best of times, had initially turned on each other, tensions increasing until it spilled to violence. Men were thrown overboard, beaten, and blades drawn. It had only stopped after a voice had cut across the melee, singing; pure, clean, and melodious.

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THE BISHOP’S DEAD LOSS

Posted on by under 2023, August 2023 - Loss

The Bishop was shrouded in a sterile melancholia. No Paul, no Barnabus. The preoccupied silence intermittently splintered as believers, heads studiously bowed to their books, whispered ritualistic rejoinders to the calls to silence. Not like the pub book-reading club at all!

*****

My thoughts drifted back four, no five, months. The conversation flowed then with that lack of embarrassment of familiars who knew exactly where the boundaries of safe conversation lay.

            “Can’t bend… belly’s in the way.” The speaker, Betty, strained to retrieve a biscuit for Barnabus, a particularly yappy male Jack Russell, enthusiastic to the point of obvious sexual excitement whenever a woman entered the bar.  That was one reason I routinely assumed a seat in the snug opposite; in clear view but removed. The other was discomfort. The invite “Come and join us” was no longer repeated, – no doubt deterred by my repeated rebuttals. I swigged a mouthful of stout and continued my solitary reading. Chapter 5 “The Surprise Accident.”

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Hear me out! Here’s a pitch!

Posted on by under June 2023 - Home Sweet Home

Okay, there’s certain stories you really dig. Sometimes it’s high art that you feel smart for liking. An approving conscience says well done, yada-yada.

Sometimes you like silly fluff for reasons you can’t justify but it was Crimson Camel who said a good paperback is preferable to bad literature.

Think about it, what would you rather eat, a fresh big mac or mouldy caviar?

So, this story, penned by the always entertaining Arizona Davies, takes us to a modest house. It’s during lockdown and two people are fucking.

They’re roleplaying with the guy doing a hearty pirate voice: “Yer be my kidnapped wrench ha-ha” but the gal decides to dial up the romance instead.

“I love you,” she states with puppy eyes “My heart aches for you.”

He frowns somewhat puzzled.

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Consequences

Posted on by under 2020, Jan 2020 - New Year Resolutions

Yvonne opened her eyes to a blackness and silence that caused her breath to stop and her heart to stutter. She lifted her hands up to feel her face, OK, I seem to be alive at any rate!

Putting her hands down she felt around, perceiving a slightly scratchy covering, probably a blanket, and a cool stiff fabric, a sheet. I can’t be in that much danger if they’ve put me in a bed!

Yvonne turned and put her feet down until they touched the floor. It was warm and slightly slippery. She stood up and, waving her hands in front of her, tried to find a wall in what she hoped was a bedroom.

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