“Yeah, eBay, but who ever sends stuff back to eBay? It’s such a faff, you know? I mean it doesn’t matter really, it’s still the same dress I wanted just a bit, well, smaller.” Her words bounced off his face like piss splashing against a urinal. He nodded. “I’ll just wear it. It’ll be fine. […]Read More Pretty. Vacant.
The invitation had said 3pm. Paul arrived at 2.Three hours later, and with barely a spark, Kevin was sweating. The plan was to light it, make sure the coals were white hot (he’d read that somewhere) and then begin cooking. By the time people arrived, he’d be half way through the cook. This would, Kev thought, have […]Read More The BBQ
I’m guilty. Guilty of not doing stuff with my son because I think it will be a faff, or a struggle or he’ll be too tired or won’t behave. That I’ll be embarrassed having to tell him off, that there will be nappies. Stuff like that. This weekend I could have said no to 2 […]Read More Just do it