Wednesday 1 February 2012


“What shall I write, on this stormy night……..?

It’s not actually stormy and those aren’t really my words. It’s cold in fact – really freezing and the night, like the words are unexpected.

I’m not where intended.

And Uncle Colin, to whom the words belong, found himself elsewhere than intended though not when he said them.

Though actually, he didn’t say them, he wrote them, and he’s not my uncle – more my uncle-in-law.

Perhaps I should explain?

Someone asked him to be Father Christmas, a school I think but for sure he had never intended to be a Father Christmas.

He said yes.

He turned up.

They gave him a printed sheet of instructions.

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