Sin… spinning me right around….

Did you know you can turn the ceiling fan to whirl the other way in winter? Supposedly, though I can’t say I’ve noticed the difference, it pulls the cooler air up to lessen the chill in the room below, forcing the warmer air to circulate in the lower part...

Sin…. RIP Tuesday…

“What is Bill Posters supposed to have done?” So started the conversation that killed Tuesdays. Innocent questions have led to worlds colliding, man facing off against man, handbags at dawn and hissy fits. “Were you looking at my missus?”...

Sin… ah the memories…

I can still feel it, you know. All of it. Almost hear them. The deaths, the pain, the screams. I’m not immune. Not in any way. My signing myself up for Risperdal Roulette at the hands of Dr Connors wasn’t a way for me to deny what I’d done. It was to...

Sin… all the pretty colours…

Do you know how many shades of red blood comes in? You’d think it was just the one. Blood is blood, right? A touch of the claret, pumping its way around your body, supplying oxygen to all the little nooks and crannies. It’s all the same to you, me and the...

Sin… sniff sniff

Sniffing. Can’t BEAR it. And there is ALWAYS someone sniffing. Like a reverse dripping tap, except, I suppose, the dripping is still there. You wait for the inevitable next one, wondering if they’ll be nice enough to choke on their mucus and give you some...

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