ME AND BOBBY McGEE by JANIS JOPLIN. Story by Mary Pomfret.
Each night of our five -night derailment, when the hot sun went down, weād go and sit on the still-warm tracks with a crazed old railway fettler who had befriended us.
Each night of our five -night derailment, when the hot sun went down, weād go and sit on the still-warm tracks with a crazed old railway fettler who had befriended us.
Mum was a practical woman. She expressed her love through deeds. Tender words and demonstrative affection werenāt her strong suit. Particularly at home.
You resolve to simply never think about Harry Styles, or One Direction, ever again.
Stereo Stories sends it condolences to friend and colleague Smokie Dawson on the death of his father Eddy this week
Baldy wished Steve a happy birthday and opened the door of Steve's birthday present, the Chrysler Valiant Baldy had just stolen.Ā Ā
My daughter takes me to a movie that sheās already seen and thinks I will like. The movie is so-so, but thereās a song in it that I love.
I want you to know that meeting you on 26 March 2006 was one of the highlights of my teenage years.
It was strange: I listened to it, and the unspoken words hanging between us were suddenly said ā not by him, or me, but by this angelic voice from afar. It was an admission, an apology. No, it was a plea. No, maybe it was just a song.
The late flight, the two-hour wait in customs, and 1am arrival still clung to us, but something else clung as well.
Arming myself with a tennis racquet, I tiptoed along the hallway and into the kitchen to confront the intruders.