Crosswords, cappuccinos, and Classic FM: I basked in the gentle cadence of Sundays until I was caught depositing company profits into my account. Now, Sundays are indistinguishable from every other day: anaemic coffee, bartering jam for marmalade, and the sonorous symphony of my cellmate making a different kind of deposit.
Fee Johnstone is a managing editor of a medical journal who lives in Scotland and favours cats, craft beer, and cheese over most other things.
“Hold still!” Mother chided, yanking impatiently at my corset lacing.
“Someday women won’t have to suffer these torturous contraptions!” I lamented.
“That’s absurd! Respectable gentlemen don’t wed thick-waisted ladies,” she retorted. “What’s next, women wearing trousers? Keep these fanciful notions to yourself, otherwise you’ll bring our good name into disrepute!”
Fee Johnstone is a managing editor of a medical journal who favors cats, cheese, and craft beer over most other things.
I swam frantically towards the abandoned boat, determined to be captain, but a forceful shove from a big-boned assailant thwarted my claim to the tiny, inflatable dinghy.
My dismay dissipated when it capsized, catapulting him into the gaggle of sharp-tongued grannies whose lackadaisical lengths he’d disturbed.
Victory was chlorine flavoured.
Fee Johnstone is a managing editor of a medical journal who favours cats, craft beer, and cheese over most other things.
Ingesting an alcohol pill containing enough units to ensure a buoyant mood at the party, I marvelled at my Halloween costume. Adorned with an inordinately bushy beard, thick-rimmed spectacles, breath-constricting jeans and tweed brogues, my vision of someone dubbed a ‘hipster’ from the olden days was my scariest effort yet.
Fee Johnstone is a managing editor of a medical journal who favours cats, craft beer, and cheese over most other things.