Richard Wright

author of strange, dark fictions



August 20, 2009 by Richard Wright in Journal, Life


We now have a shiny red sticker to prove that, yes, we’ve sold our house in the middle of a recession, despite the murmurs of doom from friends and family. Don’t know what all of the fuss is about, really. It was a doddle.

It sold at the right time too, as I’ve almost immediately been taken with a bout of man flu (like swine flu, but a million times worse than any woman can possibly imagine – only men know the truth). I’m huddled at home with only Lemsip and self-pity to keep me company. Not a great time to feel under the weather. The end of August fast approaches, and after that, the final countdown to India. On the last day of September, Kirsty and I will officially be married, but still in Glasgow. On the first day of October, about forty-one days from now, we’ll be in the air, heading first to Dubai, and then to New Delhi.

Lots to do.

Don’t feel like doing it.


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