I like to write about the way none of us ever act “in character” but somehow that defines who we are. My day job is writing for others. My hobby is writing for myself. I have lived on three continents and my boots were made for walking.
My story: a 15 year old girl with a bad attitude. A Lithuanian woman with bad taste in men. A dead mother. And a hot Maths teacher who shouldn’t be kissing the 15 year old…
The most Quavers I ever ate was 187, the night Mum bought the Twilight DVD. We watched it three times in a row, 360 minutes of vampire and werewolf glory. She was all Edward, Edward, Edward, eyes bright and doing that head back laugh, so I said, yeah he’s fit. But really Jacob was penger.
Woke up the next morning to an eyeful of empties and yellow wrappers and a watch that said 9:34. Late again. I made too much noise getting up for school and Mum shouted “Leave it”. She always let me skip, said I knew all that Year 6 shit anyway.
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