The Witching Hour.

Thursday 11th of April 2019

The police were called last night. They didn’t turn up, but they were called.

At around midnight we heard the front gate slam against the wall. Then a woman started screaming and trying to break down the door.

“I’m calling the police!” She screamed. “I saw that man just run in there!”

When the door wouldn’t budge she actually called the police, gave them our address and everything, then walked down the road as though she accomplished something.

Let’s be clear, no man ran into the house at five to midnight. I would have noticed. Just making that 100% clear. But a crazed woman trying to break into my house in the middle of the night was actually terrifying. I slept with my pocket knife nearby, just in case she came back and succeeded the second time. Yes, I would have stabbed her. Not that I got much sleep, I couldn’t get warm last night, no matter how many layers.

On to more pleasant news… I don’t have any, but it would have been nice, right?

Something’s been happening recently, I’ve been writing, but I wouldn’t call it writing. See, it feels different, it feels like… composing, composing an elaborate, mechanical symphony. Composing, I like that. I’m composing.

I decided to take a break from writing and the internet gets cut off. Now, this would be okay if I hadn’t just spent my last £70 on paying the bill. Vodafone suck. They suck so hard. Boycott Vodafone! I’m a millennial with no internet, what do I do now?

‘The Murder of Miss O’, if you’re looking for something to read.