sunday stalker – the turtle (part one)

She reminded me of a turtle. Slow, purposeful, reclusive. Like she carried an invisible load on her back which made her move very slowly to bear its weight. A turtle is somewhat of an enigma – who knows what it does once tucked inside its shell for the night? What does it think, with suchContinue reading “sunday stalker – the turtle (part one)”

The Polaroids are, uh … in my other coat.

I still exist. Poetically. Philosophically. Physically. Yes, faithful Wuckers. I’m alive and advancing. Dwelling in ye Old Blighty. Enjoying a rather tepid summer and yet another Phoenix rebirth! You see, following the attempted annihilation of my character ‘n’ career by the most recent in a long line of Vaders, I boarded a plane bound forContinue reading “The Polaroids are, uh … in my other coat.”

A wrecking ball… is something else entirely.

It’s come to this: I sit with a glass of red, my emotions in a rage. Love. Crippled hope. Fear. Futility. Exhaustion. Defeat. A daisy chain of disquiet. Tumultuous seas confined to the teacup that is my chest cavity. A kaleidoscopic sideshow only I am privy to. Yep, that about covers it. It’s the first emotionContinue reading “A wrecking ball… is something else entirely.”

Move it or lose it, Toots.

Fuckadoodledoo. My landlord just gave me notice. I gotta move outta my beloved abode afore the next solstice. Four years in, I could feel this day approaching – fast and furious like the errant arse of Vin Diesel. Yessireebobtail I’ve dreaded it. Now it’s nigh and, well. I’m gutted. Just quietly. My life is implodingContinue reading “Move it or lose it, Toots.”

You can’t handle the truth!

I think my mojo has sprung a leak. I can hear the soft whoosh and whine of it deflating, like an airbed long used by porcupines. Though, my hope is it’s more of a falter than ‘flater and will rise again (like John Mayer from the ashes of dignity and seldom silence). I have applied forContinue reading “You can’t handle the truth!”