This one’s fiction, which will hopefully become obvious when we start talking about wormholes. I’ve had it in drafts for absolutely ages, and I am still not entirely sure it’s right, but I’m running a bit short on stuff at the moment, so please enjoy this dimension-jumping, universe-splitting love(?) story. 

She’s been staring at him for weeks over sticky pub tables and board games and jokes. Each time she catches his eye there’s this absurd teenage chest-blush feeling – the warmth of nurturing a crush and holding it close to your heart. The debate – if you can even call it a ‘debate’ – that she’s having with herself  about asking him out, is all part and parcel of the fun of it. Will they? Won’t they?

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I’m having a lot of nightmares at the moment. Don’t feel sorry for me, if I were to write posts purely to gain sympathy I’d find far more interesting things to pin them on. I think the nightmares – like clockwork, at 4am, unless I take a sleeping tablet – are a way of processing a lot of break-up sadness so that during the day I can get on with being my proactive, practical self. They are horrible, but they’re also good in a way because when I wake up I realise that the world holds far more promise and possibility than my dreaming brain would have me believe. I also reckon I’m not the only one who has struggled with some of this after a break up so I thought I’d get some decent content out of ranking them from best to worst. Here are my top 4 break-up nightmares.

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What I’m looking for in a vibrator depends very much on my current state of mind. Sometimes I’m after a vigorously efficient orgasm that rockets into my life and makes me feel like I’ve been run over by a sexy freight train – during those times I’d reach for my Doxy. If what I’m looking for instead is a precision wank, where all the pleasure is directed to exactly the right spot on my clit, concentrated and magnified like a shaft of sunlight that eventually bursts into flame: Zumio. If I need something guaranteed to make me come nice and hard around a dick I’m fucking, the vibe I’ll slip into my lover’s hand then press tightly against my clit is the Hot Octopuss Amo. Unfortunately for the great people at We-Vibe, when they sent me the brand new Nova 2, what I was looking for in a vibrator was something that could help me forget that I just broke up with the man I love, in the middle of a pandemic, financially fucking myself over and effectively ripping out my own heart. It had – to put it mildly – one hell of a job to do.

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In the last few weeks before I broke up with the love of my life, he expressed a vague desire to make a trifle. And oh God I was so excited. He told me that he wanted to make a trifle.

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When I was growing up, there was always one dude in the group who would be known as The Stoner. Didn’t matter which group: there was always one guy who had this role. He would bring weed to parties and impress everyone by rolling neat spliffs that were perfectly packed. A skill born of plenty of practice, and many many many nights spent high.

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