Every evening at eight pm I head to my kitchen to make my hot chocolate. It has to be milk - all milk -with two heaped spoons of a mixture that contains real cocoa. I can't abide that stuff that's just flavouring and sugar, I'd rather just have milk with a dash of vanilla than that junk. Then near Christmas I add the whipped cream topping with a drizzle of hot fudge sauce. Perfection. I don't need Starbucks, though that stuff is damn good, I can make it myself, put on my own jazz and sit by the fire. By the end I have a cream moustache, but who's here to see? Just the cat, and I hardly think she minds.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), December 12, 2014.

Perpetually early for the movies, David stood for a few seconds as he always did. The rows of red velvet seats stretched away in a gentle arc and beckoned him to choose. Never once did he take a step forward until he'd sampled his popcorn. The saltiness had to be just right. A smile stretched on his thin lips as the kernel dissolved. Theatres varied so much, but this little palace of film was his all time favourite. The slightly smaller screen was more than compensated for by the ambience. From outside to in, it reminded him of the cinemas in Europe his father had taken him to as a boy. In those days there had been an intermission for the ushers to bring ice-cream and candy down the aisles, an interruption that would be unthinkable in today's action packed blockbusters.

With a small creak he knew he wouldn't be alone for much longer. The happy chatter and munching was all part of it, but he had to choose his seat first or it wouldn't be the same. It would be like a gift already opened. In moments his crisp ironed dress pants sank into the cushion. With soda to his right and the family sized popcorn on his left all was right with his world. Nothing could go wrong now. The ritual had been perfect, all he had to do now was sit tight and wait for the stars.

By Angela Abraham (daisy), July 12, 2015.