The reason this sheep I met on a walk the other week on Dartmoor looks sceptical is because I'd just told it that it was the best sheep of all time.
I shall name this photograph I took on my walk yesterday 'The Easily Offended Sheep And Her Young Family'.
"I might just be a sheep but one day when I'm rich and important I'm going to go to that island and stay in that weird art deco hotel. You just watch."
"He announces that he has given up dentistry to become a miner. I find it hard to discern his motivation for this, other than the convenience of being able to redeploy the headtorch he used in his former profession."
I thought I should write an explanatory message today about the way I'm doing things here from now on.
Support My Writing By Upgrading To A Paid Subscription Why have I been thinking about death so much this week? It’s probably an autumn thing and no doubt it’s not entirely unrelated to my recent health problems but also, taking a glance back at what I’ve been
"Also, they’re not feet. They’re called rotorsocks.”