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How to Blow a Quarter Million

It’s what friends are for

An old model of mobile phone on a white window ledge, in front of an ornately framed mirror, which is partly obscured by the scalloped edge of a roller blind.

The front door opened, and thirty-one-year-old Brenda emerged in a state of some alarm. She hurriedly unlocked the door to her Ford Escort, which stood on the drive, and climbed inside.

After being impeded by her agitation, Brenda finally inserted the ignition key and started the engine. The tyres issued a short, sharp squeal as they gained…



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Joseph Yossarian

Freelance writer and blogger from the north-east coast of England, specialising in true crime, childhood memories and whatever takes my fancy.