A humorous look at bodily ills and daily woes, and tips from someone who has suffered everything from arthritis to athlete's foot.
Friday, 25 February 2011
No fish left, just a still, dark, empty pond. There is a huge gulp in my throat every time I look at it. Down at the bottom, I can see a few pale corpses held fast by the weed, drifting silently as the wind wafts the water.