On a slightly gloomy Thursday evening Nicky and I met outside Ms V's house armed with our best upper body muscles and one brass instrument. The brief was simple - get an armchair from the ground floor to the second floor to make room for a new medicalised armchair being delivered the next day for Ms V's husband. After trying a number of angles and repressing the usual "pivot" jokes, and all the while receiving Ms V's cheers and wholehearted support, we carried and shuffled the chair up to the second floor. One victory picture later taken by Ms V, we were on our respective ways, one of us to band practice with said brass instrument, the other to pasta, just pasta.

Title by Nicky Woodall