Rochelle, it’s been a long week, apologies for not playing last week, I was knee deep in concrete and sharp sand. So with cracked fingers, bathed in moisturiser and blister upon blister, I will try my best. Thanks also to Dave Stewart, might the Eurythmic, may not be, which is part of his charm, the photo is great. So without further ado, it is time to say, as usual for me,
On My Marks…
She had been in hospital since March, her breathing shallow, covered in the sticky film of the plague but the weight dropping off; every cloud.
At home the Noodles and Jacket Potato master, was surviving, the loft train set epic, the records alphabetised, his tummy spreading fast, far more predictably than the Plague.
She was coming home, and he had decided to decorate the pond area; blue and pink, the Koi loved a bit of glitz apparently. Then using pot noodle pots and jacket-potato skins he had manufactured a kind of Vulgar Vegas.
Christ she hated that fucking awful honeymoon.
There we are folks, a tale of self reflection and realisation brought on by the virus.