Will Brexit bring us cannabis gravy?
Father’s Day. 07.30am. I sneak downstairs hoping to catch the family by surprise as they lay out a smorgasbord of gifts for me. Last Father’s Day, I shuffled downstairs late and a little the worse for wear. I had an old egg yolk stain on my T-shirt and a few day’s stubble. I received aContinue reading “My Father’s Day marked the end of the patriarchy”
Covid lockdown leaves us with little new to talk about My son and I are debating if we would ever eat the cat. ‘Only as a last resort,’ I say. ‘Like in a zombie apocalypse?’ he asks. ‘Or a global famine brought about by rampant climate change.’ ‘Yeah,’ says my son. ‘I think his thighsContinue reading “Would you eat your cat if the apocalypse happened?”
Bad Grandma’s Rules for Living: The Bin is unusual because normally she doesn’t give two hoots poems or about poetry. But she composed ‘The Bin’ (below) after a heavy night out on the tiles. Enjoy! Nicorette / Was not a patch / On Gordon’s / Night out / In San Miguel Other rules from BadContinue reading “Bad Grandma’s Rules for Living: The Bin”
The short story below won the Sandstone Press Prize for Short Fiction in 2020 To: CXXXXX MXXXXXX (Redacted) Subject: Care Report (Personal) Date: Viral Surge 15.1 Dear Mother I hope you are not alarmed to lose me to the War effort and are bearing Lock Down well. As this is not yourContinue reading “An epidemic of Kindness (redacted)”