Ether is the new lozenge

Ether is the new lozenge; you'll find it labelled under lounge. In the library they are reading Boudicca's Cumbrian Crown. Her heart is on her sleeve semi-colon her art is in her mouth full stop * The headlines made the locals cry; "I couldn't breathe for ether." "It breaks your effing heart, it does. What … Continue reading Ether is the new lozenge

How I met my future ex-wife.

My future ex-wife is a parchment faced German emigre called Amelie. She's a striking albino with matted hair that, inevitably, every winter grows to such a length that it falls across her coat-wire shoulders like, oh, epaulettes, or wings. Amelie cuts her locks back with kitchen scissors every new year's eve to her jaw, or … Continue reading How I met my future ex-wife.

English Teeth.

We sat, the six of us, on two black, vinyl settees facing each other and waited in the waiting room to be interviewed for the orthodontic apprentice technician position. A clock ticked on a wall, a cheese plant slouched by a window, old magazines were splayed on a glass-topped table. The nearest publication had a … Continue reading English Teeth.

Humming Neil Sedaka.

He had risen not unusually for a week day or weekend afternoon - the sun chased the moon between the clouds; both shimmering in the tree boughs, like matinées (before the talkies); the hanging rain, the red puddles of leaves in the street - * but he found himself wondering again as he shaved, smearing … Continue reading Humming Neil Sedaka.