Touching

It’s blowing a gale – literally: Storm Dennis – and I’m in a fairly seedy hotel (the cheapest I could find without actually sharing a dormitory). The windows are rattling. Above the howling of the wind there’s a whining coming from next door, in the room that shares what would be a beautiful grand curved window had it not been carved up. They must have a dog in there. Continue reading Touching

Nobody’s Number One

The tide is high but I’m holding on.
I’m gonna be your number one.

Remember the Blondie song? It’s going round and round my mind lately. Mostly just the refrain ‘number one, number one’. (I’m absolutely rubbish at remembering lyrics.) Continue reading Nobody’s Number One