chapter 4

diary extract from august 2003:

I noticed a man

in the street.

He stopped.

There was a plastic spoon lying on the pavement.

It was red and yellow.

He bent down and picked it up.

He took out his glasses case and put his glasses on.

He examined the spoon closely.

Then he dropped it into a bin

and carried on walking.

Chapter Three

Above where I am sitting, there are 2 small metal staples in the ceiling.

They've been embedded in the ceiling, doing nothing much, for years.

Once upon a time I had a giant map of the world up there.

I've still got it.

Now it fills 2 walls in my bedroom.

It is made out of 6 large segments, arranged with the fingertips of America and Russia almost touching across the Bering Strait.

World maps persist with the printed illusion that Russia and America exist far away from each other, on opposing sides. But I prefer to be reminded that, all this time in reality, they are next door neighbours.

Also, I've hung the whole thing "upside down."

CHAPTER 2

The sun's morning rays lie slumped across the floor.

I hear a cat lapping up water from a bowl beneath the desk.

Sirens skim across the ceaseless traffic stream.

There's a single human voice in the street below. Male.

I think I hear the words "Gotterdammerung" and "Ragnarok". It makes my stomach growl.

I stand up and look for food.

I am naked.

There are no birds singing today.

chapter one

I pack a bag.....

A toothbrush

and a new brand of herbal toothpaste that I've never tried before.

Shampoo.

Moisturiser.

Vitamins.

3 pairs of socks. Since I stopped smoking I've noticed that my feet have a definite and distinct nasal presence.

3 pairs of nickers.

Contact lens case and fluid.

Passport. Needs renewing in 2008.

A book. "The Doorman". A story about a man who lives in a shop doorway. The cover says it won some literary prize a few years back.