Looking out for Len

‘Len?’ I said, blowing gently on the teacup pressed against my chin, ‘shall I write an article about you?’ I’d been visiting him for a few months by then, blustering in a couple of times a week to boil the kettle and take the edge off of his lonely days. Len is 89. I started…

The Village

I’m home. After four years of dancing until 6am and walking home in sunshine, cramming for endless exams in the creaking, soft lit library and wrapping myself in a holey blanket to watch Planet Earth with a packet of biscuits in each hand and a bottle of wine on the table, I have returned to…

You turned me inside out

  Many different men have claimed to love me, Caressed my curls and held my body close. But you’re the first of them to ever know me, Sifted through a thousand fakes to find me. Look, I wasn’t good before I met you, Nor bad, just lost and acting all the time. You turned me…