It’s a sign. And a Capital Offence

Yesterday, I had need to “spend a penny”. It happens to all of us sometime. The convenience I visited happened to be one that was also an Accessibility toilet. The one with the red cord. The frightening red cord. The emergency cord that I am convinced I’m accidentally going to pull. In some freak turn of events, I lose my balance and reach out instinctively, grabbing something to stop me from falling… and the thing I grab is the dreaded red emergency cord. Accidentally I will call out three fire engines, a couple of ambulances, two nurses and Barry with his first aid kit.

Sticking to walls and putting on glasses

While considering creating my own superhero hideaway, I have come to consider the practicalities of being a superhero. I know that an appreciation of such a genre as the superhero does require a suspension of belief. Which is fine by me but there are some things that don’t quite make sense.

Now Spider-Man doesn’t have a secret HQ. Or at least, he didn’t when I was reading the comics all those years ago. Perhaps by now he has his own super secret headquarters under the streets of Manhattan. Or perhaps, in keeping with the spider theme, he hides under the sofa and skuttles out while you’re watching TV. Anyway. When he lived with his aunt in suburban New York, he would often swing in and out of the window in his Spider-Man garb. And no one noticed.

Hideaway

My wife won’t be home all night. I have everything ready. I have bread and butter pudding. I have jigsaws. I may stay awake until 9pm.

Living on the edge can be scary but it’s the only way to truly experience life. I may have fish and chips for tea. I may not.