A forever work in progress

Friday night and Owen and Mike are sat at the bar of the Alchemist in Nottingham minding their own, shooting the breeze, talking about nothing and everything at the same time as is their want and ritual every Friday night. The locations change but the end goal is always that maybe this will be the day that they meet the one . That they will no longer have to live in each others pockets like a modern day Bert and Ernie and can begin to finally dispel the rumours circulating that they're in fact really a couple given it's been so long since either one had a relationship with a member of the opposite sex.  They were just discussing about making a move onto somewhere else when they were interrupted by a particularly attractive woman in her mid 20s stood behind them both trying to attract the attention of the barman.  Owen turns to her and smiles. “Hi,” he says to her.  In his head Mike is busy slow clapping his friends' amazing natural ability to talk to attractive women. The...

"Are you a religious man Tommy?" "What me?" He asks somewhat surprised by the question.  "Do you see anyone else called Tommy here? Oi stop looking around you idiot, yes I'm asking you?" "Oh. Bit of an odd question isn't it?" "Well I wouldn't say it's that odd. Let me rephrase it for you, do you believe in God?" "No." "See that wasn't hard now was it?" Alice takes a sip of her tea, puts the mug back down on the mat, picks up her Kit Kat and breaks off a finger. "Do you want a finger Tommy? Why are you smirking? Oh you dirty bastard. OK well that probably answers my first question." Tommy's still sat smirking at himself when the penny must have dropped somewhere inside his head. Somewhere in between his ears like an old time comedy sketch, a tiny creature was yanking on a stuck power cable desperately trying to plug it into a socket it couldn't reach. With one giant pull finally i...

“Mikey! Hi. I'm sorry were we expecting you today? Where's Rika, is she not with you? Mikey have you been to a jumble sale in the rain? Oh my god why is there nothing on your feet? Why are you wearing a girls t-shirt and is that … is that shampoo in your hair?” “Hello Sandra love, let me in before the neighbours start to talk would ya? Didn't wake you did I?” “No you're alright Mikey kids were up at the crack of dawn. His lordship is still in bed mind, alright for some. Mikey why are you here half dressed, soaking wet and with shampoo in your hair? That is shampoo I take it?” “Any chance I could maybe jump in your shower and I'll fill in the blanks after?” “Yeah course love. Give your brother a kick and I'll make you both a brew and a bacon sarnie.” “You're wasted on him Sandra you know that?” “Yeah I've been telling him that for years but he doesn't pay any attention. Use one of the kids towels when you get out of the shower and you might want to se...

“Did anyone ever tell you that you're like an International man of mystery?” “Hmmmm not that I can ever recall.” “You know what, now you say it that doesn't actually surprise me at all.” “What utterly stimulating and riveting conversation Francesca. Thank you for inviting me into the inner sanctum and workings of your mind. Please don't take offense if I don't RSVP the next time the invite is sent out.” “Do you always talk in riddles?” “Do you think that was a riddle? That was me explaining to you that you're a simpleton. What goes up and never comes down?” “Oh is this a joke?” “No, that's an actual riddle.” “Oh. Ummm. Say it again?” “It.” “What? Ohhh. You're so funny. Can you repeat the riddle for me? Oh sorry, can you repeat it for me please?” “Well since you asked so nicely, what goes up but never comes down?” “Huh… what goes up but never comes down? A balloon?” “No.” “A rocket?” “No. What followed was an inordinately long ...

“We had the perfect night. Ben made it so special. I literally felt like I was floating on air.” “Sounds like a big dose of heartbreak waiting to happen if you ask me.” “Seriously? Are you joking me right now? Did I even ask you by the way?” “Does it look like I'm joking?” “Fuck you sis. You're always jealous. Which bit of perfect night did you not hear?” “Oh I heard it. It won't last though.” “Have you been watching Sherlock on iPlayer again? Go on then genius, tell me exactly why it's doomed to failure?” “Because love is a drug. You're an addict. Any addict will spend their life chasing the hit the first high gave them but the body's chemistry doesn't work like that. You can't top a drugs first high, it's all downhill from there. You'll chase it and chase it and when it doesn't come it'll destroy you.” “I don't even know what that means.” “Well, ask a heroin addict.” “Do you know any heroin addicts?” “Ohhh erm...

All of us at one time or another are visited by echoes of our past. I don't want you to confuse that for nostalgia, like when a song comes onto the radio that reminds you of a certain point in time or maybe of a person you'd long since forgotten ever existed. Life as Shirley Bassey once sang is always just a little bit of history repeating. OK maybe I'm paraphrasing there a little but the point stands nevertheless.  I saw a family of four walking down the middle of a road, the mother flanked by two lads who've long since outgrown their her height wise and who was now walking dwarfed in the centre. The husband, or father depending on the person's point of view, walking on behind. The woman was once a primary school teacher. Maybe she still is, although most likely a Head teacher or a Deputy Head at the very least. I first encountered her when I was doing a project at the school when I was in sixth form. That would be a few months shy of 30 years ago now. She was beau...

If anyone asks me what my favourite city in the world is to visit, my answer without hesitation is Paris. ‘I didn't know you were a romantic,’ is the usual riposte. Sometimes said sarcastically, sometimes posed as a question depending on the person asking. Oh Mon Dieu, Paris, the city renowned for L’amour, a city misunderstood, mislabeled and one which has to be explored for you to find its true beauty. For every kilometer out from the centre you go the more you get to discover the true Paris, the city which you don't find in any of the tourist brochures. The parts where it becomes a melting pot of cultures and styles all blended into creating this surreal backdrop for daily life to pass through. A city where if you sit still for long enough you'll be offered every type of illicit goods you could ever hope for if you were that way inclined. Where groups of young men bowl past you in large masses as a means of survival, stray fish become too easy a target and are picked off...