HAPPY NEW YEAR

Helen sat down with a sigh. It was time to think of a new year’s resolution.

Why do I do this to myself? she pondered. Each year promising myself to do something useful. My spare room is filled with things from years past. The cross stitch still unopened, the exercise bike which I generally hang my ironing on. Shelves stacked with books I never get round to reading, exercise videos that maybe were watched once, and I nearly put my back out with them.

Think I must have tried every avenue to a healthy life. It cost me a fortune in gym membership, even personal trainers. They all fell by the wayside. Even tried volunteering with charities, every time finding out I couldn’t give them the time required with my work schedule.

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Christmas in Hospital

So here I am, 24th of December, aged thirteen, lying in my bed and I don’t want to weep but there’s a real good chance I won’t see Christmas Day.

It’s no fun having a brain aneurysm, because hey it will be the death of me. I know this because Death himself sits by my bed.

No honestly, it was yesterday when I found the bald boy, that lad who glared moodily at everyone lying still on his bed. He wasn’t blinking or breathing. And as I stood there gaping at a dead body, I heard a strong steely voice behind me, calling out with a cackle “Oh don’t worry, he wasn’t going to amount to much.”

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A470 at Christmas

We were up at dawn. I was so excited I was nearly sick, but I still managed to eat a bowl of porridge. This was our Christmas trip we were embarking on … to have Christmas with my grandparents and my uncle and aunt in Cardiff.

‘Come on, Glynis,’ my mother shouted. ‘What on earth are you doing?’

I came downstairs wearing my pink fairy dress which I insisted was the proper outfit for Christmas.

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Christmas in Wales

I’ve lived in Swansea all my life and the lights in town used to be across the lamps, and brightly lit. The parades were great and fun with always Lewis’ Pie van going past. The tree was always great. But times have changed and the lights are new, and are more up to date. But I think the lights now are not as good as they were before. The tree is still good but Swansea seems bare across the sky. And the parade now is not the best but the waterfront is lovely and bright, and the wheel is nice, also the ice-rink is fun.

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The Opportunity

As I reach to put my key in the front door, my husband pulled it open from inside. He shouted “You’ve won, you’ve one, we’re going on the cruise.” I was taken aback by the word “we”, I had had no intentions of taking him, as he had been getting on my nerves quite a lot lately.

He explained that he received a phone call whilst I was out, and had already given the lady all our details. We were to board at midday on 30th June, everything else had been taken care of. Not everything I thought to myself. I would have to go with the flow for now.

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Turning to Glass

They sparkle like diamonds, the sharp angles of their colourless faces reflecting beams of light through the computer screen. They are The Glass Girls. Dazzling the brightest of all is Anastasia Parfait, queen of the online Pro-Glass-Lifestyle world.

How glamorous they are. How happy, cool and confident. How completely the opposite of me: A teenage failure. Unpopular, unprepared for GCSEs. Sad about my parents’ divorce. Missing my Nan. Suddenly there’s nothing in the world I want more than to become glass.

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BUT…

It was to be the most exciting evening of my life.
A gala dinner and night in a five star hotel in London all expenses paid, a reward for all my hard work.
Time spent in the spa at the hotel, then the full beauty treatments. Hair, nails all perfect. My outfit the most expensive I’d ever bought.
Walking into the ballroom I noticed people smiling, as I went past feeling good. A waitress sidled up to me, ”Madame you have your dress tucked in your underwear.”

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