Jack put Lisa down gently on the spare bed in his sister’s room that she had used since she was a child, before kneeling down to study her face. She looked so vulnerable. Hypnotised by the rise and fall of her chest, the beat of his heart accelerated, taking him by surprise. The urge to lie down next to her and hold her in his arms was overwhelming. Why hadn’t he realised before that she was so beautiful?
'How would I know Mother? I haven't seen him for eleven years. But you can't be serious? Why on earth would you want to look good for anybody interested in me? Is it some sort of sexual fantasy you have? I don't have to dress up like a bloody tart to attract a man. I want somebody to love me for who I am and not what you look like! I've read The Female Eunuch, and I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. I also know what I want to do with my life, and I don't have to dress up like a bloody Barbie doll to achieve it. For God's sake, Mother, why do you always have to talk such bloody rubbish? I don't have time to go clothes shopping and please, close the door on your way out.'
'Are you back for good now. Lu Lu?' He asked as I remembered all the reasons why he irritated me as a child, not least his nickname for me. Nobody calls me Lu Lu, except for Kevin. Lu Lu sounds like a character from the chorus of the Mikado, who understudies for Yum Yum, and Nanki Poo. Still, I was very grateful for his help. So, when he asked me the question I knew he had been dying to ask me, I agreed to meet him for a drink and left him cock-a-hoop at the brow of Ashdown Hill. 'I'll call you!' He yelled, thrusting his arm in the air like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever, his ambling gait suddenly turbocharged as he made his way back into town. He had been asking me to go out with him since we were in Year 9.
It's just dawned on me that cows feature in both Just Say It and An Honest Review. I was brought up on a dairy farm, so maybe that's the reason? Coincidently, my main character in Just Say It grows up on a dairy farm with a herd of Dairy Shorthorn cattle, like as I did. Our... Continue Reading →
Cupping her hands underneath her breasts, she pushed them up slightly then let them go. Gravity deemed the only way for them to flop was south. She remembered having been inspired by those liberated ladies of the Swinging Sixties who, allegedly, threw all caution to the wind and made a bonfire of their bras. Letting her perky little darlings live free two decades ago might have seemed like a good idea at the time, but that invigorating liberation was having a knock-on effect now.
It's hard to keep the comedic banter going, now that the Coronavirus has been declared a World Health Emergency. The enormity of its threat to our very existence has rather paled Brexit Day into submission. Not that this day is anything to celebrate, its more like a wake. It's a day I hoped would never come, along with half the British population.
During my supine week, the fug in my head made it difficult to process most things, let alone finish the edit. I did still retain the brainpower to operate the TV remote, but everything I watched made me cry.
For the first Author Interview of 2020, it gives me great pleasure to introduce you to one of my fellow Jersey Writers Social Group members, Dreena Collins. In September last year, Dreena entertained a packed Maria Richie Room at the Jersey Arts Centre, during the 2019 Jersey Festival of Words captivating us all with her engaging wit, and her passion for creative writing. During 2019, Dreena self-published three volumes of her excellent short stories and flash fiction, The Blue Hour, The Day I Nearly Drowned and, most recently Bird Wing. The Amazon reviews alone are glowing.
I am just about to come to the end of what will be the final edit of… Draft number 12 of my first novel… I think it’s number 12, but I’ve lost count. So I’m a long way off seeing my book in print, let alone watching Renée Zellweger win another gong for playing the part of my MC and thanking me in her acceptance speech.