Edna and the Polar Bear
Edna lived mostly in an armchair that used to be as red as a tomato. Now it was brown as her tea. Edna’s flat was
Edna lived mostly in an armchair that used to be as red as a tomato. Now it was brown as her tea. Edna’s flat was
We’re living in a world where so much is inverted that in a late night drama we’d relish the satire. For four years the President
I might never have become an author if I hadn’t lost my hair. Alopecia Universalis gave me a story to write when I created Daisy
N.B. This wasn’t quite the final, published version as I’m a zealous tweaker, especially at the last minute, and have a meticulous editor at TSL.
It had been part of the NVDA training but Em didn’t really know how to go floppy so she just lay down on the road
I’m straddling a tube. Blanket-resistant, my legs feel newborn and frosted. On our web there’s a scrum, a swollen mess of cross-stitch, a stranded, tentacled
“If you don’t love it here, why don’t you leave?” someone suggested – not to me personally but to those like me who criticise, regret
This is a short story and another postscript to the e-book, FOR LIFE (which you can download for a donation to XR) about rebels Manda
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