Council Estate Blues…

Bachelor Girl. Blog

Forty seven years. Forty seven years slumped in the same seat, on the same sofa, in the same house, on the same street. Like a fetus in its mother’s womb she has remained in this cesspit like solace since birth. Having never worked and with no motivation or aspiration to entertain anything beyond her own nose, she knows of nothing else. Naturally, there is one exception to this rule, namely, reveling in other people’s private lives. Other people’s relationships, family dynamics, misdemeanors and misfortunes, now that excites her! As she listens attentively you can noticeably observe her eyes widening, focusing intensely, pupils like pins as her eyes dilate. Such goings on not only stimulate and engage her but send her into a visible frenzy, hysteria and an adrenalin like driven state.

Situated in what could described as a ‘deprived area’ the site is a haven for illegal activity, debauchery and…

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Abruptly discarded, my limp body dropped…

Bachelor Girl. Blog

My father has always loved to garden, some would say that he has a green finger. I don’t know about a green finger but I can attest to an iron fist. Studying and analysing his plants he would tend to them with such care, watching as they flourished all around us. So precious to my father, the plants in the garden were not there to be enjoyed, not by us anyway. Prohibited from even going anywhere near them let alone touching them, “You look with your eyes and not your hands!” Naturally, I knew this and so it stayed with me while I played. Although anxious, I would discreetly ask my friends not to touch but it seemed to go over their heads. Lacking comprehension and completely unaware they would carelessly continue playing. Of course they weren’t interested in the plants but still I felt the need to remind them…

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The Paraplegic Prostitute…

Bachelor Girl. Blog

Firstly, I should note that her real name is actually Sophie, Dee is merely her ‘work’ name. For the purpose of this exercise I’ll continue to call her Dee so as not to make things too confusing. Unashamed she describes what she considers to be a pleasant and somewhat enjoyable role in the adult entertainment industry. With disabled sex workers being limited in scope, Dee takes immense pride from being one of the very few paraplegic’s in the business. Collectively they have come together and created quite a niche market in what is a vast enterprise. Increasingly naive and having very little knowledge of such things she was very much keen to educate me.

In a very grandiose manner she explained the importance of “the webcam”. A tool that allows her to entertain both men and women from the comfort of her own home. Lonely individuals pay a fee simply…

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That Laugh…

Bachelor Girl. Blog

Moving into my new apartment was like a breath of fresh air, a space that was entirely my own. Although it took some time to even comprehend the notion of what constitutes a ‘home’ and all the feelings that such an environment evokes. The apartment was silent and the surrounding area free of noise. This is one of the attributes that I first came to really appreciate and treasure about my new abode. With a quiet lull it remained calm, still and peaceful. The only interruption was that of an acute, high pitched cackle! Wild with energy and deep in concentration I found myself asking “What in the almighty fuck is that noise?!”. So frequent I became more accustomed to such outbursts, none the less I was still very much curious as to its source. It was not long before I discovered the body from which this devastating blast discharged…

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Kneeling beside the tub…

Bachelor Girl. Blog

Kneeling beside the tub I would sit, chin resting on one hand, propped up by the side of the bath. Immersed in the warm soapy depth,  I used my other hand to wash water over her growing belly. Curious I would explore, gently probing the soft, round shape all the while studying the flashes of purple. Scar tissue that lit up, glistening under the water, reflecting the night light. Consumed, my gaze would move between her stomach and the black mascara that trickled over her cheeks. Transfixed, I watched the stream of tributaries as they meandered across and down her face. Diluted, slate grey boulders streamed from red, raw, blood shot eyes. She would cry so hard. The pain in her face was one that I understood and so quietly I sat and observed all the while sharing her sadness.

The sound of silence was disturbed only by a whimper…

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