Thursday 18 September 1986

…We copied our stories into our English books.
It was Games today and we did hockey again.
Star Trek was on today.
On Bodymatters tonight they went down the body on a train…

My story was called A Mrs Thatcher Nightmare.

I’m not going to make a habit of this, but below you’ll find the text in full.

I realise this is a self-indulgent thing to do, but then so is this entire blog. If you’re not keen on browsing extended reams of childhood scrawl, there’ll be another update along shortly in which I talk about Doctor Who, and one on 23 September where I get told off in class.

For anyone still reading, I reckon this short bit of creative writing sums up my temperament and obsessions at the age of 10-and-a-half all too well:

"Absolutely flopped"

"I'll throw some metal at her to see if she IS Iron"

"She's only a puppet, dear"


One thought on “Thursday 18 September 1986

  1. I used to think, and this confirms it, that teachers place ticks at random…
    “Half an hour later as we walked down Whitehall”
    Why does that sentence get a tick, when the preceding little section about your family’s opinion of the Tube gets nothing? And it is MUCH better!

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