Notting Hill is great, but Uxbridge is Greater London!

Friday night, I was planning on going to Central London. Go dancing at Fabric with Frederick, stay in Notting Hill over the weekend, and have lunch on Sunday with Cara in China Town. But after I finished writing a Dutch story, Het Konijn van Troje, I got overwhelmed by such serious knee aches that I could hardly get back to my halls from the library. So I was stuck in Fucking Uxbridge…

That night, I ended up leafing through the Writers' and Artists' Yearbook, and noticed that 14 February was the deadline of their short story competition. (It's postponed to 20 February, by the way.) Not that I stand any chance, but as a student Creative Writing I feel that I should at least try to hand something in. Since I’m still mourning over the sudden death of my dear netbook, I had to drag myself to the computer facilities at the John Crank Building. I reread some of my stories and decided my coursework for David Fulton was the bloody best thing I’ve ever written. Unfortunately for you, my dear reader, I haven’t posted it on this blog, because I’m not certain whether I’m allowed to. So I altered Thicker than Blood slightly and submitted it. And now I don't even dare to say my night has gone to waste anymore!
I will not let this dodgy knee stop me from doing what I’m here for! After all: Notting Hill is great, but Uxbridge is Greater London!