The Shoreditch Dachshund Challenge (Belle)

Posted on January 27, 2025 by Dreamaticus

I had been busy flirting with the owner of the new antique shop, hoping he would give me the address of a secret auction house. However, the longer he refused to share this information, the more obsessed with him I became.

Through stealthy detective work, I discovered he had a fondness for extreme sports and was a participant in a new weekend event in trendy Shoreditch. I arrived at the starting point in time to see my man, clad in Lycra and a crash helmet, lying prone on a trolley being pushed through a small hole in a front door. I asked another spectator what was going on. This was the first ever Shoreditch Dachshund Challenge, where participants attempted to squeeze through as many tiny Dachshund doggie doors as possible in an hour.

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The pensioners’ orgy (Belle)

Posted on January 21, 2025 by Dreamaticus

As my friend parked our bright blue car on the high street, I spotted my friend T walking through the front door of a house. This came as a surprise to me as I hadn’t seen him since he died in the late 1980s. I decided to knock on the same door to say hello.

The door was opened by an impossibly elderly woman. Before I could explain who I was, I looked over her shoulder and saw that a full-scale orgy was taking place. There was a tangle of bodies and walking sticks and wheelchairs. There was no sign of T.

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Mother in a care home (Rousse)

Posted on January 15, 2025 by Dreamaticus

We had some explaining to do when my father returned from Canada.

Why, he demanded, had the three of us – my two sisters and I – placed our mother in a care home?

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Rude relations (Rousse)

Posted on January 12, 2025 by Dreamaticus

My sister J and her husband M decided to move to Edinburgh. They took a quick look at my flat, pulled out a pad of paper, and drew up some plans. Their big idea was to buy my flat and improve it. Meanwhile, I could go and live elsewhere. I doubted that they could afford to do this. In any case, they would never get planning permission – especially when they indicated that they would be sending their proposals to Newcastle (as opposed to Edinburgh) City Council. Even so, I found it all deeply distressing.

Events the next day at R and SL’s house upset me further. My nephew P’s cold behaviour and snarky response to my question about his viewing of The traitors series 3 were completely out of character. I ran into the kitchen and called him a git (completely out of character for me too). Then, on the way home through the New Town, I lost TPR. The only happy moment of the whole evening came when we watched the starling murmurations over the park from R and S’s kitchen window.

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Oxford University cheat (Rousse)

Posted on January 10, 2025 by Dreamaticus

HVJ’s father passed on the telephone message. ‘Your daughter N is struggling with a final year essay. Please could you help?’

I couldn’t believe that it had come to this: Oxford undergraduates using their mothers as ghost writers.

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Mistaken for a grandfather (Rousse)

Posted on January 10, 2025 by Dreamaticus

The children ran into the room and spotted TPR in the corner.

‘That old man must be your grandpa’ said one to the other.

TPR was not impressed.

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From Leeds to Shibden Hall (Rousse)

Posted on January 10, 2025 by Dreamaticus

I was in Leeds on a sofa with HVJ and HVJ’s lover. HVJ’s husband RJ sat opposite us.

I had no idea what HVJ was trying to prove, but I winced when she and her lover openly embraced one another.

To lighten the atmosphere, I suggested that we go to Shibden Hall for the day.

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PhD poser (Rousse)

Posted on January 3, 2025 by Dreamaticus

I had never heard a voicemail greeting like this before.

My sister J started her message in the conventional way, then launched into a long diatribe about the recruitment of PhD students.

Very few of her friends, if any, would have understood the detail. Was this all just for me? If so, what was she trying to prove?

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Amol Rajan: rubbish railway worker

Posted on December 31, 2024 by Dreamaticus

Amol Rajan had given up in journalism for a job selling train tickets at London King’s Cross.

When he failed to find me a split ticket for the route London-Newcastle-Edinburgh, I recommended that he return to his old role.

He didn’t even know how to issue a standard single from the capital to Waverley.

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A tattooed lover (Rousse)

Posted on December 28, 2024 by Dreamaticus

I’d known for some time that TPR had taken on SC as his mistress, but I was hopeful that this was just a temporary arrangement.

It therefore came as a bit of a shock to see the feint tattoo on TPR’s right wrist. I recognised this as a symbol of lasting commitment to SC.

The time had come for TPR to make a choice between his wife of many decades, and his relatively recent paramour.

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