Hedy Lewis
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Stories (2)
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It's Friday, I'm in love
The first time I touched his hand was inside a cow, which proves nothing more than the countryside is bloody weird. London had sickened me in the end, just like Dad said it would. I arrived home in red soled shoes, my clothes in a bin bag, wine bottle clutched in my hand and my boss’s grope still hot on my breast. The clothes were bought, the grope unwanted, and the merlot I’d grabbed as I left the big smoke. It was my last chance. Up here, people considered wine to be something that came from a Land Rover gearbox if you pushed it above 20mph.
By Hedy Lewis5 years ago in Humans
A Pocketful of Hope
I was walking home with a belly full of expensive food and a head full of questions. The questions weren’t about to get answered any time soon. I’d be better off drowning them with the cheap whisky back at the office. Didn’t just rot your guts, it silenced all questions and a nagging conscience too. If the money in my pocket hadn’t been a cheque, I’d probably have stopped in the first bar I found and seen how much of it I could drink through before I passed out. I guess The Guy knew me better than I first thought.
By Hedy Lewis5 years ago in Criminal
