A followon story from Icarus. How could we think that we could ever really have it all, when these people…these boys that DID have it all, go killing themselves and sitting in silence and refusing to let go of friend’s coffins and not talking to anyone?

He wasn’t a suffering artist, he was Icarus who’d flown too high and then realised he suffered from vertigo. A story about the consequences of ambition, expectations and forgetting that success doesn't leave you invincible. :: SECOND EDIT ::

You realise that you used to dream about that tall lanky body and relish the feel of that hair between your fingers. Just that back then you were pretty sure the veins in his arms weren’t pumping with speed and the hair was a good deal less Robert Plant.

You sit there holding your textbooks and tell yourself that you knew it all along. So now either he’d have to remember or you’d have to forget, and seeing as how you’re renowned for your memory it doesn’t seem like forgetting is much of an option.

Or: Just Because No One Understands You Doesn't Make You an Artist. A rant against all those stylised movement pieces and metaphorical women who are birds who are trapped in metaphorical cages which poses the question: If you don't get it, and your audien

A Day in the Life of...going to be a series of stand-alone satirical diary entries from a day in the life of various eccentric groups. First up, a day in the life of a Feminazi.

It has recently come to my attention that the fencers at school are deemed to be weirder than the visiting carnies. "Yeah, but you do fencing" is capable of winning you any argument. But we're simply misunderstood. I'll prove it to you.

We all complain about how much we hate where we live at times. And then you get treated like you're a twit by a Post Office attendant. And then you feel the need to make a list. This is it sportsfans.

Dear Board. I feel it is my duty as a somewhat cynical, highly perturbed and desperately vexed member of your curriculum to warn you that a lunatic has seized control of our classroom. No, this is not a hoax.

Ever wanted to be the one talking about how you got so smashed you were doing chicken impersonations at the week-end party? Or have you simply wondered how to get away with acting like 15 is your I.Q. instead of your age? Well fret no more.