Through the crowd, a voice cut through, 'You have a lucky face'. Weaving through the jubilee bustle, I'd ducked down Bow Street to skirt the edge of the celebratory storm that stretched from Buckingham Palace to Leicester Square and overflowed into Covent Garden's...

'I've been told to tell you that you need to check your pidge'. She buzzed with mulled wine and held my gaze, seeing if her message had made it through the Christmas jingles playing in the Old Kitchen Bar. It hadn't, so she urged me with her eyebrows, lifting them in...

The butterfly’s first mistake was visiting my balcony. His wings were the colour of optimism, and he’d popped by after spotting the greenery growing in my plant pots. He would flutter and land, flutter and land, acknowledging each plant with a quick perch like a...

My parent’s garden is unlike the others in the neighbourhood. If one of the satellites falling through space were to cast its camera over the part of England where I grew up, it would see a sprawl of suburban houses. With each passing day, the satellite would uncover...

Would you ever hack someone’s Facebook account? What if they’re grooming underage students and you need evidence to convict them? This is the story of how I helped catch a criminal. — I remember when the internet used to sing. Explaining it to someone unfamiliar with...

After the last weekend, I’ve been compelled to write a cow attack survival guide. I couldn’t find one, so I have to presume it’s because there haven’t been any survivors up until now. Below is a story on getting charged at by a cow and how I lived to tell the tale....

Western media is pretty mischievous. You can see it in the UK, but it’s clearer in America. Ordinary looking people are brushed under the carpet, so centre stage can be given to those with a perfect sort of beauty. At its extreme, its the pursuit of perfect beauty...

Note: Names have been changed for the sake of privacy. It’s been a decade since a letter arrived inviting me to the place that inspired Hogwarts. The messenger of good fortune was not an owl, but a dutiful postman. He crunched his way through the snow that frosty...