When I was 10 years old I saw a picture in a magazine of a woman who had spontaneously combusted. She'd caught fire whilst sat in front of the TV watching an episode of Coronation Street—she was literally reduced to a pile of ash on her faded green armchair, with scorched marks in the carpet where her feet should have been. I was petrified. So much so, I made a bed for myself in the bath and slept under those reassuring taps for nearly a week. I also never left home without a litre bottle of water to hand, primed and ready to douse any uninvited flames.
Thats me, Aidan Traynor. I'm a writer and a worrier. Not warrior—that would have sounded better.
