piece of polysterene

Getting ready for the old lot

Word went round that we’d definitely be getting new management. The old lot were all washed up. We were told to get the whole building decluttered and smartened up, making sure all traces of the old regime were gone. Scarlett, our team director, put Becks in charge. Becks is my line manager, but I’ve never…

Drones

To help our preparations for New Management, Scarlett decided we should turn our office into a War Room. She put a sign on our door that says SENSITIVE OPERATION DO NOT ENTER, and got us to push our desks together and lay a huge sheet of paper over them, on which we’re tracking our manoeuvres. Heather was…

election flyers

Election

It’s dark in our house, because of all the election flyers my son Dave 1 has stuck up on the windows. When he’s not sticking up flyers, he’s glued to the TV, channel-hopping for interviews and debates. He hasn’t said much for the past couple of years, but these days he’s become quite chatty, by…

earring on pavement

Lost shoes and earrings

Woken at 3am again, not by the lizard, but by a ping on my bedside table. Thinking it might be Scarlett, my boss, who has been sending me lots of messages since our Bellini evening, I sat up and reached for my phone. The message was from Wild Ma. It was a photograph, of a…

Wanting

Erik the builder has disappeared into thin air, leaving the extension skeletal. We could see into it through a large hole in the kitchen wall. But then it got colder, and Stepanov nailed a piece of plywood over the hole. The plywood isn’t quite big enough, and the wind still whistles in. The kitchen is full of…

Efficiency

Each morning at work Heather has to come down and get me from Reception, because I haven’t got my own security pass. It takes ages. First I queue at the merry-go-round desk, and get someone to phone up to Room 808. The queue can quite often take five minutes, and then it takes Heather at…

Work clothes

Sunday night before my second week at work. Thinking about clothes. Not point in trying to compete with Scarlett, who wears things that remind me of the pictures in the old Ladybird Cinderella. A different dress every day, each one as magnificent as the last. All low-cut and sleeveless, which I find surprising, because it’s…

Anandamaya Kosha

I should be reading my own novel, in preparation for the meeting with the publisher who pronounced it good but clogged. She’ll ask me what it’s “really about”, and I can’t think what I’ll say.  I’ve sent the manuscript to my Kindle, and opened it up a couple of times, but it sets my stomach…