Catch us if you can…

…But please don’t – it’s the risk of being caught that’s so exhilarating. If we actually did get caught, we would probably die of embarrassment. And what are we doing that we don’t want to get caught doing? Nicking sweets from the newsagents? Writing rude words on toilet walls? Flicking elastic bands at people in

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I can’t do this any more

A small tear trickled down my cheek, then another, and another, until I found myself sobbing uncontrollably and burying my soggy face in a pillow. My ex had given me some divorce papers to read and something in the wording had unexpectedly triggered this reaction. I wasn’t crying because I wanted my husband back, but

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Celluloid or cellulite – part 3: The end of it?

Sandra has been feeling closer to Barry as they have enjoyed their little interludes together – even if it means a quick one when they have both managed to snatch half a day off work, or Barry has snuck into Sandra’s for a quick beer and crisps after her kids have gone to bed. In

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Waiting

I look out of the window for the umpteenth time at the same time as reprimanding myself for doing so; I know standing at the window doesn’t make anyone arrive sooner, but I still do it and have done it since I was tall enough to see out. Waiting for someone to arrive doesn’t get

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Erotica: The Surrogate by Cela Winter

Molly’s in Saint Paul, Troy is in San Diego—but maybe distance really is just a state of mind … It’s three minutes till ten. As usual, I’m sitting up in bed, a magazine open on my knees, and my phone within easy reach on the night stand. Not so usual are the other things lying

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