It’s Friday… I think, maybe it’s Thursday, some terrible news has knocked me got 6. a small frankie and benny’s in Newcastle, I’m sat with a set of potato skins steaming on a plate. A familiar face, one I’ve never met but know well is sat watching me from a TV, like a hungry child with a long grey beard. I blink harshly and look at my girlfriend who faces away from the TV, “Terry Pratchett’s died. ” I croke, her face simply saddens for my loss.


Terry Pratchett was one of them authors you could rely on, I’ve never read one of his books and not enjoyed it, and was one of the reasons I began writing in the first place. He will be missed, the diskworld will never spin the same way and the octane just lost some of its glow.


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