Late Christmas Eve, early 2010s. I'm sat in the car with my two youngest children, both under ten, waiting to pick up my middle son from his shift at the local CO-OP. Stars litter the sky with sharp, tight light, our breath sends dragon smoke clouds into the black frozen sky. The heater is dodgy…
Missing their song
I miss my kids. Not just as they are now -the funny, bright, annoying, boring people they have become with their busy lives, exciting plans and lives far away. I miss them, for how they used to be, when they were mine, when I held their hands and wiped away their tears. It’s not all…
Earworm
The one where I can't write for the tunes in my head.
Bordering Grey 