I am allergic to injustice. Brings me out in a rash. My Dad, made me both physically, emotionally, and socially. He left us in 1988 and the world was a poorer place for it. A true hero to me, and many others. I had him tattooed on my arm, doing what he loved best. Soaring alone, above the clouds, in his WW2 Spitfire. He watches my every move. I say Hi to him every morning in the shower, and he makes me smile. His common sense, compassion and infectious Yorkshire humour were passed on in my genes and my attitudes. I have to stop writing this, as I’m welling up. Joe Bell. That,s what makes me. I try anyway.
inspired by Nigel Bell