100 Objects Project

100 Objects Project #16: The University Hoodie

This hoodie, one of several I have from University, is the last Uni hoodie I bought. It is for Katherine Fletcher Halls, room 14, at Edge Hill University, Lancashire (UK). It represents for me the closing chapter of that period of my life, were I was leaving behind full time education, adolescence, childhood, unhappiness, heartache… Continue reading 100 Objects Project #16: The University Hoodie

Short Story

Short Story: Hush Now

Warning: the theme and subject matter of this story may not be suitable for younger readers. Thank you. She was sitting behind a pile of books on early Romantic poetry, like a child in a fort. Other students milled about all quiet words and restrained giggles. It was programmed into all students – you obey… Continue reading Short Story: Hush Now

Short Story

Short Story: Away With the Fairies

WARNING: This short story may not be suitable for younger readers, as it contains adult themes and adult language. You have been warned. Away With the Fairies ~ A Short Story She sat in one of his t-shirts, oversized and comfortable, her bare legs stretched out in front of her on her single bed. Books… Continue reading Short Story: Away With the Fairies


Poem: Addiction

Addiction Dangerously drinking up your darkness Daring to lose myself in an abyss I want to hurt to prove I'm alive And through hate know you better   Course through my veins Scream through my system Consume my soul Make me less human Rage me open Until my heart gives in Written 8th December 2004,… Continue reading Poem: Addiction


Poem: Wounded

I’ve been reminded over vaguely recent times, of a long ago past, or rather, the more unsavoury aspects. Never before have the words “there but for the grace of God go I” been more pertinent. Because I have been reminded of something a long time ago, I decided to dig out the poems from that… Continue reading Poem: Wounded


Toe-Curlingly Embarrassing Stuff

Now, to be honest, I’m not someone who gets either embarrassed easily (having three kids and a host of Doctors and nurses prodding you in unthinkable places before, during and after birthing will do that to a person). Nor am I squeamish. I like to think I’ve lived a little. I’ve almost died twice too.… Continue reading Toe-Curlingly Embarrassing Stuff