Do you ever stand, toes at the threshold of that yellow line and imagine some nutcase is going to push you in front of the train? I always do. Every time the warm assault of air whips the hair against my cheek, I cast a furtive glance over my shoulder and judge. Charcoal suit; not crazy. Blow-dry; not crazy. Skinny,… Read it
Holly writes about science and adventure. She is working on her first novel while helping to run a country pub - a long way from her former life in London.