‘How can I be of disservice, sir?’

He announces his presence only when the night is perfectly ripe. When the laughter flows like liquor and the liquor flows at pace. Continue reading


It Goes Like This

It goes like this:

You start the week feeling bright and prepared. You feel quietly assured that this time things will be different. You make plans, you write to do lists, you make a a vow to be healthy and productive. Go for a jog on Monday, salad for dinner Tuesday. You put that copy of Anna Karenina in your bag to read at lunch. You’ll be the you that you always knew you could be. You’ll keep it up for two, maybe even three days. But inevitably come Friday the veil of sensibility will have been torn to rags. You’ll find yourself desperately scrabbling for the weekend, on hands and knees, like a man in a desert dying of thirst, withering under the noonday sun, clawing his way towards an oasis.

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