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Apps. I want to talk about apps. The little irritating junky things they want you to download onto your phone to access everything from a prescription to a service provider. Designed for the young and flexibly fingered. And perfectly sighted. I’m computer literate. I have a tower pc in to…
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Every year I forget how noisy this season is. Great industrial, howling lawnmowers a persistent screech of busyness. The strimmer and the hedge trimmer manned by men with noise cancelling headphones, oblivious to anything around them including children and small dogs. The communal areas, the church gardens, the cemetery and…
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It was Friday afternoon in a little Yorkshire town and the men scurried like little brown beetles to their prayers. Pyjama dresses, half mast trousers, skinny ankles and huge feet in cheap trainers. Absurd and comical and deadly serious. Little boys with little hats dragged along to be initiated into…
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I’ve been wanting to write about Lucy Connoly for a while now but I’m so enraged by the injustice that has been done to her I’m afraid I might end up in prison too. This was not at Speakers Corner or on a rally over a microphone but on her…
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Sometimes, when a storm breaks days of stifling, sticky humidity and lightning cracks open fissures in the night sky you can hear the women of Lextalionis laughing. In the dead women’s place they laugh all the time unless of course it’s The Screaming Hour, but generally their world peals with…
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They came in great numbers these women. Ravaged and mutilated and angry. Climbing out of the pc monitors and the television screens. Out of the wooded paths and the quiet streams and the rural roads. Out of the seedy hotel rooms and the penthouse apartments. The brothels, the backstreets and…
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He bombarded her with text messages all day long. Inanities about where he was working and what he was having for lunch. Funny little anecdotes about his day. Reeling her into his life. Mildly bemused if not a little irritated at the banality of them. she gradually began to enjoy…
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So India and Pakistan are at war now. I can’t even be bothered to research what it’s about because I’m sure it’s centuries lengthy, boring and as predictable as rain on a bank holiday. Kashmir or something, fighting over who it belongs to. I asked our mate Google. India is…
