Diary
The Sex Life of H. G. Wells
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 […]
Good Morning
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 […]
Coin Slot
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 […]
Parasitic Wasps
Friend Kristin has read my moth diary and she’s keen to tell me about a “natural” solution involving parasitic wasps. Apparently you release the wasps at home and then seek out any unhatched moth eggs, feasting on them as the world’s grossest caviar. Unleashing some wasps is immensely appealing, but I can’t help wonder if […]
You Come Home From Work
You come home from work and you turn the television on. Something’s wrong. Inspector Morse is on every single channel. You thump the top of the set in a caveman bid to escape John Thaw’s stern face but your hand passes through the set with a sickening tear. The television set is made of paper! […]
