I hate it,

I hate being told what

I should do

to fit in as a good

little housewife,

but I know

what's good…

A facebook chat about the songs on my i-pod for the gym got me musing, mine doesn't include any dance tracks with high energy and bpm to keep me bobbing along on the cross-trainer.

I'd listed several bands that I had on there and a friend suggested I should have some Prodigy instead of the (mostly) indie rock that I picked as being suitably loud and distracting enough to keep my mind off of the…

She rubs a finger across the lump on the skin of her stomach, it feels like a spot, but she has to twist her neck, and lift up the folds of flesh to see it. Yup, a spot. However on squeezing, the white coming out is not a pus-like exudate, one splurge and it's out everywhere, but a different texture, a thick solid tube of suet. It can be teased and stroked out, massaged out almost; and she is reminded of David Attenborough nature documentaries. The…

The tears trickled down my face as I struggled manfully to stop my beating heart bursting like a buboe out of my chest. I was no longer smiling happily as I waved goodbye to the concierge of the hotel, my thoughts full of the wonderful weekend with word-wizardly writers. Sipping Sazeracs on a sizzling sidewalk; guzzling gumbo with great gusto.

It had all changed on the last evening, now blurred to a hazy recollection; we had all got together in a downtown bar and toasted the…