“Because I saw him descending the stairwell with a large, oddly-shaped bag slung over his shoulder and thought, ‘If he’s a killer and the police later ask me what time it was, what would I say?’ I guessed at 10.15, but when I looked at my wristwatch it had just turned 10.13.”
“Do you have a habit of imagining yourself as a witness in a crime story?”
“Yes, of course. Who doesn’t?”
The police officers looked at each other knowingly, but neither of them could think of an answer.
I'm originally from Liverpool and worked as a national magazine journalist for more than 30 years before suffering a stroke at age 53. I started blogging as part of a neuro-rehabilitation programme and wrote the very first entries with one finger of my disabled left hand. Later, art became another therapy for me at Headway East London's Submit To Love studios. I blog regularly and volunteer as a teaching assistant, coaching schoolchildren in aspects of journalism.
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