A Racist Bone

  “So, bone – are you a racist?”     Copyright owned by Jay Cool, July 2019

Edges

  The edges of me have holes in. Gaps in the fortifications, making it easier for you – to ping your view of me, into the spaces, thinking to make your mark, but I’ve played your table games before, in other places, with other players, and your view of me, pings back, at you –…

Hypocaust

In the middle, I stand, pushing down my insides, is to be whooshed over and over; whooshed by the waves, emanating up from the soles of one’s feet; tidal waves, quick and sudden; humongous waves that cross over one’s bowels,  stomach and heart, crushing them together into a bouncing ball, up and churning it   …

Why do good people do bad things to good people?

    Is it bad to be obedient, or is that just a good person doing what they are told? Why do good people do bad things to other good people? Can a person be good if they have done a bad thing to another person, knowing that the thing they have done is bad?…

Marvellous

Disclaimer: This post contains an image link for a product to make you tingle. If you click through to Amazon and choose to purchase a lorry-load of the stuff, I will receive a mega-big commission at no extra cost to yourself. Marvellous! It’s Tap Time again, and our first comedian – Danny Marks – is…

39: Borley Mill

Disclaimer: This post contains image links for books available at Amazon. If you should choose to purchase, via the links, I will receive a commission at no extra cost to yourself. It’s Sunday. I’m on the move along Northern Road and I have to say that my dainty ballerina’s arthritic feet look rather sweet when…

Apperception

  To sleep, or not to sleep? That is the problem. But to sleep, for the obedient wrongdoer, in the aftermath of a wrongdoing done, is not much of a muchness of a problem. A wrongdoing done to another, a deception, is not much of a problem to be borne, if one was ordered by…

51: Saucy Sunday

Fed up with tidying up everyone else’s mess, I thought I’d experiment, i.e. abandon the kitchen for a day, in the hope that Hubby might get busy in there. Hubby did get busy in there. After a long Sunday-morning lie-in, I decide to face reality and venture into the kitchen. This is what it looks…

50: Croissants in Cornard

Saturday. A definite picnic day. Only five more days left of the day job. Time to prepare for the wind down! I turf out all the junk mail that’s been accumulating in my stylish picnic basket and fill it to the brim with delights. Lots of healthy fruit – a water melon, bananas, tomatoes, etc….

38: Assington

Saturday. Time to get out and to be out. Today’s destination? No, I’m not driving to work on a Saturday – forget that! But, every workday, I drive up the A14 towards Colchester and, out of the corner of my right eye, see a church steeple beckoning to me from on high. Come on! it…