Tag: writing
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Love, Too, is a Type of Pain
Love is a type of pain,the soft kind;the ache of holding somethingthat could breakand knowing you’d break with it. It’s the bruise of caring,the stretch of becomingbigger than your own skin. It hurts, yes,but only becauseit matters.
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Twelve Minutes
I only came in for bread. The place was half‑empty. It was the kind of lull where the staff looked briefly feral with freedom before remembering they’re on camera. I took a basket even though I didn’t need one; it felt like the sort of day where you pretend you’re more organised than you are.…
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Fourth of July
An old charter sat on its pedestal, edges worn from years of hands that claimed to honour it. Lately, a few visitors have begun lifting pieces from it; small ones, easy to pocket, easy to pretend were never there. The pedestal still stands. The room still applauds. But anyone looking closely can see what’s missing,…
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Foxes, Seagulls, and Other Street Prophets
I walked past the takeaway and a man was chanting at a seagull like they had unfinished business. A bus hissed, a fox trotted through the queue like it owned the franchise, and for a moment the whole street felt beautifully unhinged. I didn’t find meaning. I didn’t need to. Sometimes the world just wobbles…
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Puddle, Late Afternoon
She was ahead of me on the pavement, blazer slipping, bag thumping against her hip in a way that suggested the day had not been kind. The puddle wasn’t remarkable; a shallow spread of rainwater collecting whatever the street had dropped into it. It gave her pause as she considered it with the seriousness of…
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The Constitutional Knot
Parliament’s particularly picky politicians peddle patchy policies with performative precision, while backbenchers bicker in brisk, bitter bursts about budgets, borders, and broken‑bus‑routes. Meanwhile, ministers muddle through midnight memos and misfired mandates, making major matters mysteriously more muddled. Across the aisle, opposition orators offer oddly optimistic options, only to wobble, waver, or wildly withdraw when the…
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The “Hand-Me-Down” Seat: Why the Makerfield By-Election Feels Like a Betrayal
When Josh Simons resigned his seat on May 14th, he didn’t just step down; he explicitly vacated the space to clear a path for Andy Burnham. This kind of calculated seat-swapping, where a constituency is treated like a personal asset to be gifted from one party figure to another, leaves a sour taste in the…
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The Gradebook of Small Griefs
We came for chalk and the sound of a question landing,for the slow bloom of a student’s face when a hard thing suddenly makes sense.We came with lesson plans like little ships and optimism folded into our pockets,and somewhere between the photocopier and the meeting room the compass got nicked. The salary letter arrives as…
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The Sneaky-Sneak’s Sneaky-Sneak Scheme
In the halls of Holyrood, dusty and grand, Where the leaders all gather to govern the land, There was a great kerfuffle, a hullabaloo, About money that vanished; a million? Or two? “Oh, where is the cash?” cried the people, quite loud, “It was meant for the Cause! It was meant for the crowd!” But…
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If The Newsroom Was a British Show
I love Aaron Sorkin’s show, The Newsroom. I think it’s one of the best pieces of television ever made. It’s also a show with a truly incredible opening sequence, wherein the main character lays out why the United States of America is, despite the propaganda, not the greatest country in the world. Here’s the clip:…