T S Eliot | T S Eliot
Feb.13.2012
Schooldays. I’m about eight years old, I have my brown school reader in my hand, and I’m about to knock on the headmistress’s door. Everyone in the school has to go and read to her once a week - a solemn ceremony and not a bad one either: there’s something special about leaving the...
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Jan.15.2010
The lemon slice floated near the rim. The vodka was more potent than I thought it would be. These were dredges of a trip to a city I knew well enough not to like it. I was with a new friend who had still to grasp what I wanted out of life.
There was a man across the table drinking beer. He was...
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Jan.14.2010
The tallest order yet for the weekly blog theme is to share a favourite poem. Among my top ten are three already mentioned, one from Rupert Brooke, one from Robert Browning and this from T S...
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