Ghost Clock

Some kitchen alterations meant we had to move the wall clock. Now, though, bloody muscle-memory means I never have a clue what time it is as I keep staring, in confusion, at a bare wall. It’s been more than a month and there’s no sign I’ll adjust. I wear a watch. In every other room […]

Gerry Hayes

I mostly sit around all day and drink tea. Occasionally, I write stuff and send it to strangers so they can humiliate me and deride my efforts. Other than the self-harm to dull the shame of failure, it's not a bad life. Like I say, there's tea.