sojourner2settler

My dad liked “a bet”. After work on Saturday morning, he would bike into town and head straight to the bookies (a betting shop). After carefully studying that day's races, he would place his bet. At this moment life was good, full of potential and hope. Throughout the afternoon his optimism would drain away as my dad’s “certainties” would fall at the first fence, give up on the last straight or throw the jockey. His favourite saying was “bandit”, which he would shout while th

Definition of my childhood: “a lack of order or predictability; gradual decline into disorder” And then something weird happened, we stayed in one house long enough for me to change from primary school to secondary along with everyone else. I started to make friends, in fact, I made “a friend”. I was doing okay in school, hoping for a racing bike for Christmas, I was starting to become … normal. Thankfully, my parents spotted the trend and decided that no such fate would befa

When I was 11, do you know what I wanted for Christmas? No ... well neither did I. I thought I wanted a bike but what I really wanted, was a friend. It’s a common mistake, to use “things” to deflect attention away from the screaming void inside an empty heart. You have a quick look over the edge at the black chasm of your life, and before you succumb to vertigo you buy a bucket of ice cream and binge-watch Netflix. We all have our escapes. As an 11 year old whose only emotion