G&T’knee on the clap-trap line Cancelled services for the human unkind. My FTSE fell off my FEETY. Left me hobbled-de-hell. 99 problems,  But the BREXIT taint won. My shadow Cabinet has played it’s hand. Dealer’s choice. Class AA droogs; Kicking all the Polish where it hurts, in the windas. All I want to say is,…

Two mature gents at Victoria. Both ex military police. Both seen active service. Both three sheets to the wind. One of them, Jim, siddles over for a harmless flirt. Asks me what I’m doing Tuesday. Would I prefer St Pauls or Westminster. I say nothing and is he free at 3:30? He asks if I…

Be more like me, he says. Be more objective. The man talking *at* me leaves me reflective. I lookup the word, just to see what it states. Below is what Google search populates:   “impartial, unbiased, unprejudiced, non-partisan, disinterested, non-discriminatory, neutral, uninvolved, even-handed, equitable, fair, fair-minded, just, open-minded, dispassionate, detached, impersonal, unemotional, clinical”   Now maybe…

hangover days; the remains of yesterday coating the tongue, flocking teeth, fogging brain and clouding judgement.   But I would not have it any other way. for all to soon a terminally dry refrain, never to drink dram again.

The click. The clack. The sting. Blood blooms on finger tip, Drips down to the modest white strip. A red tide racing towards the line. Praying for “yep that’s all fine”. It’s no longer a death sentence. Just a life sentence. You’re positive it will be negative. Absolutely positive. You’re positive.

She reads people like books. Tomes bound in vellumed skin. Transcribed in blood, and sweat, and tears; Masterworks of accruing years.   Some were surprisingly, painfully short; Superficial or collapsing mid sentence. Others were extensive fulminations, Verbosity obese with it’s own orations.   Fantasies and fictions delighted her, Dreamt up by fever’d brows; Terpsichorean tales,…