She terrorised the skies then popped in for a brew.


Oh how we laughed when we imagined that she would hover on her broom outside the upstairs window, then calmly climb off, reduce herself to a blue vapour and slither under the cracked pane of glass. She didn't though. She strolled in an hour late and thought a soft toy would placate us all. Which it did. We went all new age with mints on string and objects that represent the inner self. I took pictures even though death threats were made regarding posting them (I've walked in the shadow of death in Tajikistan and girls don't scare me so expect pics soon). We discussed his nuts, her boss, his wardrobes, his huge list of lovers, his shoes, her knack for relocating ghosts and my love of Ray Winstone in the bath in Quadrophenia.