Peter B Godfrey

A human tide, twice a day. Bodies hit the streets, en-masse. Ebbing and flowing, heading between work and home. Choke points Congestion Problems at junctions and intersections. We are all traffic. The great exhale of relief at another work day finished. A riff on a piece from Ross Bilton this

He felt adrift, and devoid of all values. Overweight and exhausted, with an uncontrollable facial tic. Reaching out was an act of atonement. The counsellor likened his addiction to keeping a baby tiger. At the beginning it’s exciting but as you feed the tiger it grows and the threat

Unless you see you cannot think. Clean out the mass of mental and emotional rubbish that clutters your mind. Without this housekeeping you cannot begin to see. Unless you see you cannot think. A reach for the phone or laptop upon waking invites chaos and anxiety into your life, and

‘It’s valuable not only because of its content but because of its intent.’ There’s only one way to make something new, by listening to, reading, watching something old. We don’t make things anymore: we just consume stuff. Hit by a wave of depression, then nausea, as he

Some of them are terrible. Some of them are lonely. Some of them are amazing. Some of them aren’t even ours. What if I do these superb things in one day? With my favourite people? In my favourite place? What if I close my eyes and think really hard

There is no barrier between what she thinks and what she says. Shouty, judgemental, frightened - almost immobilised by depression and rage. She carries a weight that others cannot see. Partly because she hides it, partly because they don’t want to look. She has turned her home into a