(no subject)

Today I kind of have 11-year-old stomach, where I had a big lunch and then went on the waltzer and then won a duck and then went on the waltzer again and then had an ice cream and then watched Beauty and the Beast and Dr Horrible and ate Doritos.

Tiny bit bluppy.

But it is so worth sussing out the waltzer beforehand and working out the spinniest car. In the funfair on Southsea pier, for the record? It's the black one.

(no subject)

She glares into the fridge, fingers tapping an uneven rhythm on the door, and blows her hair out of her eyes - it's getting long now, less a style than an event on her head.

"It's always the same," she says to no one in particular. "You're always out of Saturday before you've even registered the packet's been opened."