This from Frankofyle:

Merci et adieu

I’m on my bike. History.

Why?

Two reasons.

Firstly, I can’t hack the idea of that wrecking crew continuing to drop in whenever they feel like it and seeing what I’m up to.

They’re like shit on your shoe. You can’t see it but you know it’s there. Stinking. And it won’t go away.

Yeah, I know. Ignore ‘em.

Tried that. Didn’t work.

Used to think of Georgie and co. whenever I started writing. But now it’s those wreckers. And when that happens, it changes everything. Everything.

Secondly, I’ve come to the end of this story. Done the beginning and middle. All I needed was a suitable end. And suddenly there it was. Ain’t a particularly happy ending but, hell, that’ll do me.

As for writing, been there, done it. Got the book and the blog. Don’t think I’ll miss it. But if I do, I guess I can always start a new blog somewhere else. Anonymously, of course. Let you know.

What else can I say?

Thanks for taking the time to read my blog and adding your comments. Thanks also for allowing me into your private blogworlds. Much appreciated.

Been an interesting experience.

Time to call it a day and get on with painting a few walls and tiling that shower. And my oil paints and easel are around here somewhere…

Au revoir! :(