Bored witless, I go into town with no particular intention other than to get out of the house. I think about going to the pub but each one I look in is empty. The streets of the town are empty, the pubs are empty and I’m empty. The only place with any sign of life
Dear Mary… At a recent literary prize-giving, after three short and elegant speeches covering the shortlist and the award, the winner – for the first time in his life, it seemed – had the microphone. And did he not enjoy it! The assembled company of around 150 guests looked at one another in horror as
