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“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”

Updated: Jun 11, 2021

IMAGE: Collage of a living room with 5 figures in the process of doing a handstand

It was a bloody stupid idea, is what it was. But there you go.


I’m 32, 5’2” and (probably) within a stone of my ideal weight (minus Covid-Chocs and the odd glass of Shiraz).

Corona-Virus hasn’t got me down – no-sir-ee – I’ve been busy. Re-disinfected every corner, re-discovered why I never learnt Russian; re-read all of: Austin (Brilliant); Elliot (Honestly?); Hardy (Sigh…); Dickens (“It is a far, far, better thing that I do now...” - gets me every time).

But, a new challenge is required.

I am going to achieve my girlhood dream, do the one thing that I’ve never been able to.

Thank God for YouTube. There’s literally nothing you can’t learn, including: “How to do a Cartwheel in six easy steps”.

I’ll be like one of those girls in the park on a summer’s day. Effortless. I’ll have one foot raised, hands above my head, launch into a human blur of limbs, gracefully turning, landing upright, arms aloft, almost as if I had never moved.




“Oh God…. Jeeeeezuuuuz….. That hurts.”

Oh Effing hell, look, there’s blood everywhere.

All that practice. Sodding YouTube. I should have moved the pictures, when I shifted the sofa. Didn’t think about the prints.


Urgh. It’s all sticky. My lovely rug...

Still bleeding, quite a puddle now. Where’s my phone? If I can just wriggle over there on my back…

Can’t see the keypad, need the nines.


“Yes, that’s right, I live alone. The door’s locked. Don’t think I can; stuck on the floor. Try the nice bloke at Number 3? He’s got a spare, for emergencies.”

“It’s my leg. Lots of blood. I cut it. I was trying to… Umm... Does it matter? It’s really sore. I’m so tired now. And cold. Send someone soon?”


“Hello lovely Mr No.3. Thank you. Sorry: sleepy, it’s really chilly. Who’s here with you?”


Ambulance WOMEN – just my luck.

“Please, please don’t do… Yes, that, don’t do that. Yes it does bloody hurt.”



What did they give me? Still hurts but now I don’t care.

Whoah, careful guys, not made of rubber…

Cor – look - ceiling tiles, strip lights, just like the movies.

“Hello Doctor. Oh. That sounds bad. Yes. Whatever you think.”

“Eaten? Breakfast. Spent hours on the rug. Could murder a cuppa.”

“10, 9, 8, 7….”


“But I am better. You know I’m better. I’ve walked round the room, been to the loo, I climbed your stairs-thingy and learnt to use the crutches…”

“No. No-one. But seriously, I’m fine.”





That’s definitely neighbourly…


“What time is it? Shit. I’m a mess. Twenty minutes? Help me get in the shower then.”


“Hi. We’ve never really talked much.”

“Ok, then. Well, Dave,”

Mustn’t giggle.

“Hi, I’m Gina.”

“You really didn’t have to offer…”

“Yup, all ready”

“Actually, I could murder a cup tea…”

Am I blushing?

“Sounds lovely…”

Oh no, I giggled!


Artwork ‘gymnastics and red wine do not mix’ by BRONACH RAE

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