One Day More, Mally!

As I pen this narrative, I’m currently sitting at the Bexley oncology wing with my dad (Mally). My mum, who is also in attendance, reckons today is his penultimate radiotherapy session. Although I’m pretty sure she’s incorrect and it’s his second last treatment. As I write this he is filling his time reading a tabloid newspaper. It is…

My Bus Is Always Half Empty

I ventured by contemporary omnibus with my wife into Leeds city centre yesterday afternoon. In half empty bus through grit covered windows,  our journey encompassed sights of the salubrious and less salubrious suburban sights of our West Yorkshire metropolis . The psychoanalysts among you may say that by penning ‘half empty bus’, as opposed to ‘half full bus’, indicates a pessimistic outlook…