Pulp (non) Fiction
byWhen Tracey arrived home from the shops this morning I was sitting on the balcony steps with my hands firmly clutching two great of wads hair.
“What’s wrong with you?” she wanted to know.
“I’m on a health kick,” I told her.
Bruce
Can You Feel It?
by“So, Bruce,” said the familiar voice on the phone – a friend who works at the council. “I’ve called up for a dose of…