The Isle of Man
When he asked me if I was the writer I just laughed. You know the laugh. You once described it as drier than a corked bottle of Chardonnay and no less unpleasant. But he persevered, told me he had a story for me. What is it about people and writers? Would they tell a painter that they had a picture
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Johnlee82 sent you a message. ‘Can’t wait,’ I muttered around the pen jammed in my mouth and clicked to open the envelope icon on the screen. Two days into the surreal world of internet dating and already it was becoming tedious. Eighteen new messages sat in my inbox and 567 men wanted t
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