This really happened.

At the beginning of a formal religious service the thought suddenly occurred to me: I've never seen a picture of Gandalf going to the toilet.

required writing

The first thought that came to mind was the time you went to unload supplies to...a middle eastern country (is that right?). When you told me about this i wondered about the faces of the men you worked with...the details.

That slight of a moment when your feelings change towards something, someone...the adjustments of perspective.


The daily routine of your work in Austria. (I have this wrong as well, don't I? the chalet you worked at...)

London in the winter, then the spring.

A can of spotted dick.

A character that flew in and is staying for a while...a snippy nose and unbearable sadness.

An account of all the rooms you've slept in.

Those boots you wear.

Ladies and gentlemen we are floating in space.

Danusiu! Danusiu!
Córeczka radosna moja!
Dokąd leciesz? Gdzie śpisz?

"Conradi himself quotes a French Catholic priest who in his nineties was asked what, if anything, he had learned about the human heart after continuous exposure to its darkest secrets. Nothing at all, the priest first replied. Then, after some reflection, he said that he had understood one thing: that there are fundamentally no grown-ups."

"Excuse me, sir! Sir..."

"...you have fascist testicles."

First post: the past.

A sister insisted I do this. I resisted for philological reasons I will explain in the future.

My firm intention is to cultivate an atmosphere of cheerful mean-spiritedness.

Indiscriminate use of italics is also on the cards.