Why was he still sitting next to me? There were plenty of empty seats. In fact every single seat except ours was free.

Alarm bells started ringing inside of me. This did not feel right.

I was going to have to move. I didn’t feel comfortable. At all.

But I had so many bags and I was the one who had sat down here first. Why should I have to be the one to move?

I shot death glares at the back of his balding head, but he continued to sit.

Defeated, I got up and moved away. He looked up at me a pained expression on his face.

I didn’t give two shits. Who was he to me, nothing but a stranger who didn’t get social cues and the unwritten rules of bus etiquette.


I was flaming.

The bus finally moved onto my stop and I got off. Not before giving him the dirtiest look.

I felt like I was 10ft tall as I walked towards my house.

I was not going to let anyone make me uncomfortable.



The pain was tearing through me.

Who told me to go and fast myself and eat something that my body couldn’t handle.

I could feel the uncomfortable feeling of bubbles begin to form in my stomach.

This was far from what I needed.

The meeting continued to slug on. I moved uncomfortably around my seat. Every now and then glancing at the clock.

Why did a minute feel like an hour when you wanted to leave?

I wanted to cry. I wanted to stand up and scream for everyone to fuck off.

This was so unfair. Why did things like this happen to me.

The meeting finally ended and I raced out of the room.

The sweet sensation of relief was a reward I couldn’t wait to experience.


The cheers continued. It seemed that everyone was having fun except for me.

I pulled my covers up over my ears to try and drown our the noise, but it was no use. I could still hear everything.

I got up out of bed a trudged out to the kitchen.

The light blinded me as I opened the fridge.

I hated staying in on a Friday night, but then I when I was out I wanted nothing more than to go back home when I was out.

I was never satisfied.

I picked up the mini quiche that had gone off 10 days ago and a half drunk bottle of bubbly and walked back to bed.

This was my kind of fun.


Dry face. Dry lips. Dry hands. Dry feet.

Every inch of me was dry. My skin was screaming for some form of moisturiser but there was none around.

It was the most torturous feeling, walking around with dry skin. I wasn’t able to just hop out of the shower and go about with my day, so why did I think it was a good idea to shower here?

I mean who doesn’t have moisturiser in their house? That’s actually a sacrilege. It should be a sin not to have a least one tube of body cream in your house.

I felt like crying, real tears were threatening to fall.

I could feel the tightness from all around. It was the worst feeling ever, I felt like I was on fire.

My thoughts turned to the tube that I had placed on my dresser, the night before. It was way to big to fit in my bag, I thought at the time, but I should’ve found a way to make it work.

But living in the land of should’ve wasn’t going to make any difference now; there was no moisturiser in the here and now and there was no way to change that fact.

Begrudgingly, I began to dress and left the bathroom. I gave Godfred a nod goodbye as I stepped back into the room and he muttered a sleep laced bye.

We would be having words later.

Body cream would have to be provided next time if he was to ever expect a sleep over again.

As I made my way to the door, a bottle of Palmer’s Cocoa Butter, wedged in between the side of the bed, caught my eye.

Shaking my head I realised we must’ve knocked it off the dresser when we got in.

It was far too late to apply it now. I would just have to grin and bare it until I got home.


My feet were near dead. Well they would be after I had spent most of the night on foot, trying to find my way home.

Sweat had soaked through my dress and it was now dry; I felt so dirty.

Tears were threatening to fall and my body was screaming for a shower.

The whole night was a fucking disaster.

Go on holiday they had said. Find a nice guy whilst your there and have a summer fling. Live a little.

I swear, sometimes it was best to listen to your guts, instead of following the advice of smug non-singles.

Yeah it was always easy to sit up on your high horse.

But it didn’t lead to them being kicked out of a car in the middle of the Spanish countryside, after refusing to give a guy that you had just met, though who had been a complete gentleman on your dinner date, a blow job. Fucking dick.

Why wasn’t life like this.


I hate summer. I hate everything about it.

I hate the heat, the sweat. The smell of bad body odour, oozing out of dirty people that don’t bathe.

I mean how do you smell that bad in the morning? How?

I hate how it makes me want to just lay around all day and how I never have any energy. I hate the mugginess and how the air always feels heavy.

I hate having to pour endless amounts of sticky sun protection on that turns my skin purple.

I hate having to sleep with the fan on. And feeling cold even though I’m hot.

I hate always being thirsty and how drinks never seem to last long enough for me to enjoy. I hate that there’s never any ice in the ice cube tray when you need it.

I hate restless nights, getting on the tube, uncomfortable clothing, moths bouncing on the ceiling when you leave your windows open.

I hate everything.

Roll on the winter I say.


black vintage typewriter

Cold and hungry and tired.

These thoughts fluttered through my mind more than I wanted them to.

They had started as soon as I had gotten in this morning and they had continued to accompany me for the best part of the day.

Cold, hungry and tired.

I wish someone would turn the fucking AC down! Why couldn’t we just open up a window? Why were people so god damn inconsiderate?

It’s like people got some form of kick out of messing around with the temperature. A battle til the death. Well it would be the death of me if someone didn’t turn it down soon.

And why couldn’t this fucking hour hurry up and finish? All I wanted to do was get my mouth around that juicy bagel that I had gotten up extra early to make. My mouth began to salivate as I thought about its creamy and salmony goodness. This hour needed to hurry up and finish, I was going out of my mind.

Images of my unmade bed, flashed before my eyes. Why oh, why had I decided to start a new television show. I was a diagnosed TV binger; why did I think that 11 o clock on a school night would be a great time to start a new series. I was kicking myself now as my eyes struggled to stay open.

On the subject of kicking, I wanted to kick my foot right through the face of Douglas. Douglas was the latest intern and right now he was hammering the fuck out of his laptop with his fingers. Was is so necessary to type so hard? We get it Douglas your a fast fucking typer, what the fuck do you want a reward. Typing was not going to get you a full time and paid job here, not even if you typed so hard your fingers started to bleed.

I sighed a long and frustrated sigh and gave him death stares behind his head. How I wish lasers were a function that my eyes had, so that I could bore two small holes into him and stop his keyboard bashing for good.

The big hand edged just that little bit closer to the 12. Nearly there.

So close.

Soon I’d be able to get out of this shit hole. Not for good though, just an hour. But to be fair it was better than nothing.

I turned my face back to my computer and stared into the abyss that was my work. This hour was never going to let up.

A shadow appeared above my desk. Lorna was here to rescue me.

I shut the lid of my laptop and got up, my smile embracing her with the biggest thank you of the day.

The great hour escape was about to commence.


interior of office building

The heat began to spread up my legs, if I didn’t get out of here soon I would lose consciousness. The air was beginning to get thinner and the lack of oxygen was really messing with my thinking.

This really wasn’t a great idea. In fact it was the suckiest of sucky ideas! Why the hell did I always get dragged into doing things I really didn’t want to do?

Because I was a sucker, and as always, I always went along with what everyone else said, because my voice was never strong enough.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I went to kick the edge of the wall, but Cameron’s hand reached out to stop it before it made contact.

He pushed a finger to his lips indicating that I remained silent.

I bowed my head to stop him from seeing the deep shade of crimson that was beginning to form on my cheeks.

He removed his hand from my leg and moved his ear back to the door.

I could still feel the sensation of his hand on my leg. I felt giddy inside. Cameron had actually touched me. His actual hand had been in contact with my body.

I felt like a kid in a candy store, all awash with excitement.

He turned back to look at us, made a signal with his hand, the same hand that had not so long ago been on my leg and opened the door.

It was time.


I felt out of place, like I didn’t belong.

Everyone seemed so shiny and here I was a full shade of grey. And not that type of grey that was all the range now. A deep rusty sort of grey.

People were milling around the room talking to each other and sipping on expensive glasses of drink.

Oh how I wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole.

Why oh why had I agreed to come to this shit?

I will be a lot of fun, Tomi had whispered in my ears, excitement brimming with every word that left her mouth.

It was so hard to say no to her when she was in this type of mood. It was so rare that she was ever that upbeat, so of course I indulged her and went along with it, allowing her to sign me up.

But now I was here, oh how I wished I could step into a time machine, fiddle around with some buttons and erase my answer yes and replace it with a no.

A guy with thicker frames than mine, began a bee line towards me.

I gulped, was he really walking towards me? Or was there a slimmer, hotter, blonder someone behind me?

I turned to look around and came face to face with the grey wall.

Nope, it was me.

“Hi,” said thick glasses frame as he finally came to a stop.

“Hi,” I murmured back, from behind my wine glass.


The evening air danced over every inch of my exposed flesh.

I crossed and uncrossed my legs as I waited in eager anticipation for my bus.

My stomach was roaring like an untamed lion. If I didn’t get some food inside it within the next couple of minutes I didn’t know what I was going to do.

In all honesty if I did do something crazy, let’s just say I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions.

An abandoned leaf, rustled past me on the pavement. I focused on it until it was out of sight. I envied its freedom.

A lone warrior heading to God know’s where, about to experience a wealth of new opportunities and here I was stuck waiting for the 484 bus at 9:10pm.

This is what hunger, no I mean hunger did to you. I could’ve cooked something, that I knew, but I wanted something salty, greasy. Basically something that was so bad, but felt so good.

I turned up the volume in my headphones, trying to distract my stomach from thoughts of food, but it did no good. The beast was furious.

Where the fuck was this bus!

It felt like someone was taunting me. Playing some really mean games with my emotions.

All I wanted was some food. It wasn’t so much to ask for was it. I mean it was my basic human right to have food shoved into my mouth and digested.

I closed my eyes, allowing the wind to caress my face. It was kind of soothing, but not soothing enough.

Finally after what felt like a millennia, I glimpsed a flash of red in my peripheral.

I felt the beast within stand down.