Dayna just won’t quit. ‘It’s three in the morning,’ she whined from the darkened bedroom.
How can anyone sleep at a time like this?
…‘heh…hello…hello heyloo-oo-oo…Mr Lang, can you hear me?’
‘Just nod…that’s it. I thought you’d want to know where you stand.’
‘You’re on the ground, your eyelids are fluttering and your breathing is shallow.
‘There’s some twitching in your extremities, some jiggling…’ Continue reading
I think my dog is depressed. She puts her head on my lap, looks up at me and sighs. Continue reading
Every story needs an arc, a trajectory. Here’s one—Elliot Greenleaf steps off a concrete ledge and begins to accelerate towards the pavement 200 meters below. He looks down and the street is rushing up at him like a lion. Continue reading
If I have to watch another of his re-runs, I’ll sell the cat. Continue reading
“it is relatively easy to perceive that Gogol must have intended [The Nose] as a satire on social climbers…but it will become clear that…under the guise of grotesque farce, a drama of sexual failure is enacted. Spycher, P., The Slavic and East European Journal, 7. No. 4, 1963, p. 361
An empty signifier
G reckoned that it was all extraordinary and happened in the Capital one autumn over a few days, barely a fortnight. Continue reading
He was due at one. At a quarter before he called from the lobby and got Ann Seldom’s voicemail again, so he went up anyway. Continue reading