Moving On


I followed him when he left the house.

I’d stood in the hallway and listened to them argue in the kitchen. She’d found some texts on his phone. She wanted to know who the woman was. He said it was an old school friend, who he’d bumped into in the pub recently.

“Don’t worry, Pat,” he told her. “There’s nothing going on.”

“Then why is she sending you all these bloody messages?”

“I don’t know. My engaging personality?”

“This is no time for humour, Simon.”





About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)