A mum, a friend to many and I love to explore dark themes and taboos in my writing. I am an optimist with a dark side... enjoy!
She felt a million eyes gaze upon her in the ring. Spotlights and camera lights flashed before her eyes, as she prepared for the performance of a lifetime. She adjusted her peacock-feather eye mask and shut her eyes for a second, to take in the adrenaline burst and channel it into beauty and grace.
Barry Island, Wales - you have our heart
I've always been over-awed by the sea, by the beach, ever since I was little. I always felt an affinity, a serenity once I was within hearing range of the roaring waves, and within seeing range of that beautiful endless blue.
The writer who couldn't write
“Shitting shit it!” She found herself gesticulating wildly at the laptop, hands open, pleading with the blank screen. She was trying to write, and nothing was coming out. She’d walk around all day with crazy, random creativity popping into her head and out onto pages, and now this last week; nothing. Radio silence.
I was generally a good kid, I'd say. But I guess like most children in the 80's, I had my moments, and could be a right little shit. Especially when I got mixed up with a 'bad' crowd; they weren't too bad really, but next to my sheltered childhood, they were absolute terrors, and my parents tried on several occasions to get me to stay away from them.
How we can all stay sane and connected during covid
I don't know about you, but I'm feeling quite nuts at the moment. Whether it's mostly coincidence or not, I kind of feel as if my mental health, and indeed our mass mental state as a nation, as a human race, will never quite be the same again.
Tag 'till we're dead
She always used to say that we would tag until we were dead. She shuffles along beside me, and she is starting to gain on me now, which really winds me up. Well, it would if I were still alive.
I am in his bubble, and he is in mine
"Oh, for God's sake!!" My pile of magazines go flying off the edge of the sofa, when I accidentally kick them with my foot. It's only a small annoyance, but it's one too many annoyances tonight. I reach to pick them all up, then re-position myself across the sofa, propped up with cushions, half sprawled and feeling fairly relaxed, considering.
Cursed stone faces
The photo I took a few months ago, of the stone faces outside the church on the way up to my daughter's school, always caught my eye, and creeped me out. I found I always had to look up at them, every time I passed by. They even inspired one of my recent short stories: 'Grotesque.'