The Bumblebee Flies Anyway*

No messages from Seb since Saturday.  Maybe his phone has been drowned in the rain.  Or sucked dry by leeches.  Hope he will send a message soon.  Am missing him.  There’s no point in worrying about it, I tell myself.  He will be in touch.  Must hold on to this thought. The panther dozes on […]

Night Of The Jaguar*

Back at the flat and am going to write this now, before my afternoon sleep, as when wake up will need to: 1.  Unload dishwasher. 2.  Put washing away. 3.  Make supper: probably The Omelette. 4.  Prepare self for the Office tomorrow. The panther lies sprawled across my bed, taking up most of it.  Am […]

Cicada*

“Hope all’s going well my sweet?” Seb’s message comes through at 5.15pm.  “Very nice here.  The soft sound of the crickets has replaced the intense cicadas and it’s a lovely peaceful night.   Lots of love xxx.” Have just been crying about how miserable I am, but must pull self together to compose a cheerful […]

War And Peas*

“I’ve got a job for you,” Mum says. “What is it?” I say. “It’s your favourite job,” Mum says, in that excited tone of voice that she uses when she thinks she’s going to be able to persuade me to do something.  The tone of voice that means this is a fun thing I’ve invented […]

Poodle Springs*

“So, how are you?” The lovely young doctor says, pen poised over my notes.  He’s the same one who I saw last month: tall with blue eyes and brown hair. “Well my mood has dropped,” I say, “so I’ve put my antidepressant dose up.  So I need some more of those, if that’s OK please? […]

Heartbreak Tennis*

“I’ll let you know my movements but definitely see you later,” Seb’s message. Seb is coming back this evening.  Can’t wait to arrive home, switch on actual Wimbledon and put the artichokes on to boil.  Mum is on Centre Court – maybe will see her on the television. This morning Seb travelled with me to […]

The Malice Of Fortune*

“You need all the fortune you can get playing Nadal,” the commentator says.  Another bright, sunny day in Paris.  Rafa resplendent in turquoise all over – down to his socks and shoes.  Am enjoying his new style of shorts: short and tight.  They’re a long way away from those grey baggy monstrosities of his youth. […]