The deaf one was irritating. He shouted a lot. That’s understandable, but he was also a braggart, so his shoutings were especially annoying. I’ve got a new phone, you know. Takes pictures. Brilliant quality. I got this case for it off the internet. The clasp is magnetic.
At the exhibition, Shouty was so shouty that we all moved away as if he was a rogue stranger. He kept asking the quietly studious curator to speak up. He knew everything already anyway.
It came as such a relief when he said he needed to catch the 2.42 train from King’s Cross.
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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