Some one tried to hack me…

I didn’t think it was possible hack a phone (my laptop remains broken). But then, a smartphone is a tiny computer…

I see Nigel B. keeps visiting. He seems to like trolling women, rather like DW likes writing malicious letters. It doesn’t matter, my location is not disclosed on here, so my ‘neighbour’ could be anywhere.

Today the ombudsman picked up my complaint about the plans across the road. Work recommenced earlier this week, and every sound made me jump. My anxiety increased until today when the ombudsman emailed me. I also discovered the planning inspectorate.

It has rained again for which I am grateful. Watering is all well and good but it does little for the water table. We are dry and there have been more forest fires.

Last night the light seeped into the sea. The harbour seemed to disappear in mist, as it did today when the rain started today.

Pete nipped over and put my batteries into my trolley. I cherish my friends.

I slept well and was refreshed this morning until work started over the road. It was stopped after the ombudsman got involved.

All in all, it’s been an OK day, except my cousin is being persecuted by Yildiz Mehmet.

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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