A Jagged Edge

My mother told the A and E receptionist ‘He’s sustained a bad a cut.’ I leant in to the window and corrected her. ‘Actually, I’ve been stabbed,’ I said. It’s possible I sounded irritated, but I was speaking the truth. My sister had stabbed me in the upper left arm with a long, white-handled kitchen-knife. I had a small towel wrapped around the wound to soak up the blood. Continue reading

On the Wayne

Imagine going to Sainsbury’s or Tesco every week for years, handing over fifty quid each time, and those organisation never having what you’re looking for. The problem would only be with the supermarket for a ‘certain’ amount of time before ‘questions could be asked’ about the intelligence of the shopper. So on that note… Continue reading