11 June 2020 | Diary

There’s a small park near to our flat. It contains only four trees, but they’re quite large and their intermingled leaf canopy teems with life. Pausing there today, with no car noise thanks to the lockdown, it feels like being in a real wood. We hear birds tweeting above us and twigs snap softly underfoot. […]

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19 March 2020 | Diary

I haven’t seen a moth in here for a while. I wonder if Covid-19 has… Oh. There’s one.

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The Sex Life of H. G. Wells

27 October 2019 | Diary

H. G. Wells was a very sexual being. He wanted you to know this. “Let’s get it on,” he would say, “and this time let’s put some stank on it.” Yes, H. G. Wells–professorial chubbychops, writer of Mr. Britling Sees It Through, and all-round Proper Old Chap–secretly wrote a book, which I am reading, about […]

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Good Morning

29 September 2019 | Diary

Oh my God, what a night. I woke at 4:30 from a terrifying dream. It was just like in the films. I sat bolt upright, panting and confused, not entirely certain of where I was. As I tried to shrug it off and go back to sleep, I found myself sliding into the clutches of […]

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Coin Slot

26 September 2019 | Diary

A cut passage (a murdered darling) from my manuscript: I put my palm on the trepanned head of a plastic guide dog to steady myself. As I regarded its coin slot, it seemed to sing that I should pop my door key inside it. It had to go because it required too much explanation. Not […]

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