(700 words) So, I’d got into Judy’s silver convertible as she donned Ray Bans and drove us through narrow country roads, alternately overhung by green boughs then bordered by wide-open fields full of waving crops. I’d admired her sculpted profile. “You could slow down.” Of course, that was a signal for her to put her foot down even more. Judy was like that. Then we pulled up at an old church, much to my amazement. The windows had been knocked out and there was just the shell left. Inside were blackened areas on the stone flags where fires had been lit by persons unknown. It was cold and eerie. “It’s deconsecrated, looked after by the rural church commission, but they want to sell.” Judy’s voice echoed around the stone walls. “Who would buy a place like this?” I asked.
I It was on a bleak February morning in Woking, whilst waiting for a number six bus, that I had the top of my head taken off. I remember a young couple arguing heatedly opposite the stop, absorbing me in their altercation so that I lost awareness of the bus pulling in. The vehicle’s wing … Continue reading Saint Teresa of Woking
Whilst waiting for the number six on a miserable wet morning in Woking I almost lost my head - literally. I was distracted, the bus’s wing mirror and my head collided and I came off the worse. I awoke in a private hospital room with some kind of contraption around my head. A male nurse … Continue reading Saint Teresa of Woking – 600 word version