This week has flown by in a valium induced haze as I struggled to recover from the horror of last Monday. Around 7pm, as the moon settled overhead, a pack of ravenous children broke into my garden. Dressed in bits of old tat, they pounded on my door and demanded treats.
Just as I was fetching the hose (if water slays witches, then it’s bound to deal with children dressed as witches, right?) a ‘kind’ soul decided to hand over my Thornton’s chocolates. The caramels, the fudges, even the pralines!
A week on and my nerves have about settled. Though my eye continues to twitch at the mention of costumes. That is to say, I’ve done nothing of note this week other than journey to Thornton’s for more chocolate.
Luckily, I found some pictures I took while on the road with fellow author Nick Kyme.
I’ve spent a lot of time with Nick. Travelled with him to a lot of seminars, signings and talks. He’s always asked a multitude of questions – What are you working on next? Who inspires you? Will you sign my chest? But there’s one question he’s never been asked, one question I know Nick fans everywhere are dying to know the answer to – ‘What do two traveling authors have for breakfast?’ Why everything on Starbucks’ menu, of course. Now you know.
Next stop Bournemouth, where the car parks are particularly dangerous. The local council are doing their bit though, and have hired a crack team of lifeguards to make sure that should someone beat your ass to the curb, you wont be left to drown in a puddle.
Times are hard, alarm systems costly, attack dogs unreliable. Not to worry. Just smash up some glass bottles, perhaps the one you’ve used to assault that-bloke-you-didn’t-like-the-look-of-in-a-nearby-car-park, and then glue the resultant shards to the top of your wall. Home secured.