Recombobulation
My fiancé has coined a word for Saturday recuperation which describes what much of the world does to allay its…
Amanda
When I didn’t recognise the number and saw the text with kisses, but no name — ‘Thinking of you: they’re…
Growing Up
This morning, as I commuted through Hendon Central, I remembered you telling me you saw that day’s newspaper there on…
Goodwill to Men
Overheard in advent was this complaint of a bus driver to a passenger, ‘Don’t call me brother! We’re not of…
Values
The final way we’re held to account is the standing order we never chose. To whatever our lives might amount,…
Making
On these long, fruitful days, the Rioja which captures the sun of other Julys, is relaxing us, as is the…
On Lambeth Bridge
I am halfway across a bridge and midway through my life, staring at the midday sun. How I love politics!…
