the crone

opening the door to ideas

There was a zombie woman on my early morning train. Her face was a skeleton. Smooth tea-coloured skin stretched over dry bones. Milky blank eyes of faint cataract blue. Colourless dry wisps of hair stuck to the dome of her skull. Her maw was opened. Dark. Like a tunnel. The dry lips strained. Mouthing. She stared forward. Focusing …

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Whales. Poor whales. Poor dead sperm whales, to be specific. Six of them have beached themselves on the east shores of the UK over the last few weeks. I don’t have any theories as to why they washed up. They were still alive (well, at first) so it wasn’t something as basic as their mighty …

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Apprentice fever has hit our house again. I hate it (well, I love to hate it). It’s a guilty pleasure. Jeering at the candidates’ mistakes that all seem so obvious from the safety of your sofa, arguing with Lord Sugarpuff’s boardroom decisions and deriding the outrageously scripted puns. But once again what strikes me is how horribly uncooperative …

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