A flying fear.

flight flying plane air travel
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‘You nervous dear?’

Sat next to Rio was an American lady. She looked to be in her 70’s, but her exact age had been externally distored by a Beverly Hills surgeon. Whereas her neck was shrivelled like a prune, her face was perfectly smooth, looking like it was being stretched by a thousand Lilliputians.

I’d never get plastic surgery, sod that.

The woman was elegant, her attire more suited to a first-class, rather than economy passenger.

Why can’t I be in first-class?

Her sleek, well fitted, black suit he guessed to be Chanel, and the womans shiny Rolex was certainly not one you’d pick up in Thai flea market.

Underneath her perfume was a hint of lemon sherbet. The sweet, sickly aroma reminded him of his beloved grandmother. How he wished to tell her that he was sorry.

‘Don’t worry, everybody’s got a little fear of flying.’ Her accent was like that of Dolly Parton, he half expected her to finish the sentence by shouting, ‘Yee harr,’ before slapping her thigh.

‘It certainly is.’

I hope she doesn’t talk the whole journey.

‘My granddaughter Taylor gets into a terrible state everytime she travels on a plane. You sure you’re ok sugar?’

The old lady was mistaken, his anguish had nothing to do with flying, it was owned by something far more sinister.

She placed a hand onto his arm, it was clammy.

‘I’m fine,’ he lied.

He was anything but fine. His whole existence was about to be twisted into the realms of no return. The brakes of life had been cut, he was now hurtling towards a wall at 100 miles per hour.

He turned his head, stared out of the window and began to cry.


Dead flowers

red rose on brown wooden surface
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On the table was a drooping bunch of roses in a clear vase. The flowers once offered hope, but now took it away. A single drop of sadness clung to a wilted petal before eventually plopping into the water below.

 Were they in denial?

The room smelt musty, like a charity shop on a hot, summers day.

Does everything serve a purpose before dying?

Why blog?

Why blog?

  1.  Instantly throw down writing ideas – Sometimes I get ideas that don’t fit in anywhere. They’re usually forgotten, never to be seen again.  That one idea you never did anything with could reappear as a best seller or box office hit. No more wasting possible nuggets of funk.
  2. Give my self-discipline a kick up the backside – Although I’m writing quite a bit at the moment, I’d like to get into the habit of writing something on this blog at the same time on the same day, each week. There’s no rules to writing and I’m generally a writer who writes when the vibe feels right. But a little self discipline is good for the soul, or so somebody once said.
  3. Engage with likeminded souls – I had a blog about 5 years ago. It was a parenting blog called dadwithtwokids https://dadwithtwokids.wordpress.com/ during the short time I blogged, I ‘met’ other fathers like myself who were taking care of their young children, it was good to swap stories, ideas and sometimes to just let off some steam (didn’t Arnold Schwarzenegger use this line in the 80’s film Commando?)
  4. Improve my writing – The more you write, the better you’ll get (probably).
  5. Use your voice – With a blog you have the freedom to go wherever you wish.
  6. You never know who might be reading – I once had a popular Saturday night DJ residence in Shoreditch, London. As well as being a great gig, it also acted like a shop window and because of this I got booked to play all over the world.
  7. Build up a platform – I would like as many people as possible to read my writing.
  8. It’s free – Words are cheap.
  9. May help to get freelance work – When I blogged previously, I did get some freelance writing work. I also got invited to several product launches / parties.
  10. Self satisfaction!