Flash Fiction Friday. Seconds.

For now, his time was borrowed.

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Day 70.

Today’s Throwback Thursday had me delving into a box filled with childhood echoes. A trifle entertaining, a little embarrassing, but tremendously wonderful. Here’s my cast list for a somewhat over ambitious primary school production of Grease. You can forgive the bad hand writing, I was nine. #100happydays #day70 #tbt

Bright Lights Brighter Characters.

Once I had traded my cosy countryside existence for a city life in London to attend university, I knew that my encounters would only get all the more peculiar…

It was promptly after my first footsteps into The London College of Fashion that I realised the floorboards of this university were very much their own catwalk and consequently my wardrobe was a very sad sight indeed. A part time job was most definitely required in order to fund this newfound student lifestyle and to at least attempt at keeping up with the fashion forward Joneses.

My first job in the big city saw me looking after a unique boutique just on the outskirts of Soho, a place that is home to many of the more colourful among us.

Much of my time was whiled away perusing the pages of the glossies, gushing over the latest enviable wares from fashion houses such as Chanel and McQueen, which, on my part time wage and a student loan, I could only endeavor to replicate by stretching to the Topshop copycat.

If I was graced with the delight of human interaction it was typically with a pink adorned girly girl, due to the saccharine infused, fairytale nature of the clothing we had on offer. It was for this very reason that anyone with a desire for something other than a glitter, ribbon, or pom pom festooned item of clothing soon stood out, from the moment their scheming hand settled on the door handle.

I was to become privy to all sorts of alien requests, one most notably from a notorious male celebrity who asked me if I could outfit him with a balaclava. It was rather a perplexing question when you took into account our windows decked with butterflies, soft pink chiffons and mannequins with blonde 1930’s curls. Seemingly quite surprised when I informed him that we didn’t sell such an item, he asked if I could recommend a shop that did. Needless to say the only advice I could offer consisted of a visit to the PVC and rubber bondage specialists in the heart of Soho. I wondered if I had smacked the proverbial nail on the head when he sheepishly laughed and retreated from my shop, heading in that very direction.

Day 69.

Who would have thought happiness could be wrapped up in a little piece of glossy cardboard. Watch out publishing world, I’m coming to get you, and I’m armed with a bona fide barrage of these bad boys… #100happydays #day69

Day 68.

Two months ago my cynical self wouldn’t have found anything happy about a bed bound day of illness. But the mini angel on my shoulder tells me I have found joy in catching up with The Face and my favourite fashion lion, Erin O’Connor. It may be terribly last season, but you try watching a girly reality show when you live with a man who couldn’t tell his McQueen from his M&S. I met her once in an Oxford service station, she asked if I was a fashion student, oh the grin she sparked, it effervesced for weeks. Pass me the alka seltzer… #100happydays #day68

Day 67.

This has soul from past, present and future…

From Devon to Spain to London via Oxford, three generations old, locked and unopened… yet it still types. Exactly what I will have it write I do not yet know, but hopefully it will be liberated with the same conviction of each finger tap on it’s heavy keys. #100happydays #day67

Day 66.

They dance through the air, they pop with grace and they’re the most magic of transformations from otherwise banal ingredients. Bubbles have the power to transfigure even the most peppery of adult minds. #100happydays #day66

Day 65.

Embellished gold feet treats are the ultimate way to salute today’s sunshine. Please stay and play with us for a while oh enlarged stupendous star. #100happydays #day65

Day 64.

Even though my tooth is more savoury than sweet, it appears my fingertip wardrobe is candy influenced. Nail nibbling sugar sweetness. #100happydays #day64

Flash Fiction Friday. Florally Dead.

The flowers weren’t all that faded.