Even though it was already the end of March, the nights were cold and Egon wishes his bedsit had central heating, but instead turns on the gas oven as soon as he gets up.
Munching on Weetabix he googles dog breeds and there she is – a Golden Retriever. All the dogs look cute but none of them has the effervescent beauty of Gilda. Eager to find out more about the breed, he learns that Golden Retrievers are cheerful, trustworthy, demonstrative and forgiving – characteristics he had always hoped to find in a girlfriend. It also listed mouthiness, heavy shedding and distinctive doggy odour. Still, he reckons, something he would put up with. Continue reading →
Keeping an eye on Costa Coffee, Egon quickly takes out his iPhone5, which he had found in a bar one night and managed to unlock. The light wasn’t great for photography but he didn’t intent to post the crime-scene pictures on Instagram.
Poor dog, what an end to a life filled with adversity and struggle. He makes a pledge there and then to find out who killed him, because in his mind there was no question that this had been a dogcide. A suspicion which is confirmed when he sees what looks like a stabbing wound on the dog’s right rib cage, very close to what must be the heart, Egon figures.
The stern police-woman’s superior is leaving Costa, heading for them and Egon decides it is high time to disappear in the crowd. Continue reading →
Lisa del Giocondo was fed up with keeping that phony smile on her lips. These fools didn’t know that the only reason she smiled so awkwardly was to hide the wooden braces which had been fitted to correct her crooked teeth.
Dio mio, she wasn’t amused at all. Not by these gaping visitors, not by being trapped inside a frame or hanging by a thread… the corners of her mouth seemed to be pulled upwards by ever-tightening hooks.
Then this god-damn CCTV and guards everywhere… nowhere was she able to spend some time in peaceful solitude.
The lights in the Louvre went off. Lisa had been meticulously plotting her escape for 502 years, 13 days and 8 hours.
Take a bowl of strawberries
put it into the freezer
wait one hour
take it out
Gently place one strawberry
in your mouth
for three seconds
roll it in sugar
Put it back in your mouth
the luscious moment.
My best friend Katrin Denkwitz and I had a ritual. Every time I would sleep over at hers, we’d patiently wait under our blankets until her parents were asleep, then sneak to the freezer and take out a bag of strawberries.
Katrin taught me the important lesson of how to gently defrost each strawberry in the mouth before coating them in sugar. Then we would look at each other from opposite armchairs and grin lopsidedly through numb mouths.
Later in my twenties and already living in London, I came across a line in Leonard Cohen’s book The Favourite Game, ‘She had a treat for him, frozen strawberries.’ I thought to myself, I know exactly what you mean, and in that moment divergent lines from the past and present connected in consoling ways.
Winter carries the whiff of VapoRub, running noses, parkas, Disney-inspired, tinsel-heavy wonderlands (making you wonder a lot), not wanting to leave the house, man leggings, simmering family feuds surfacing over under-cooked Brussels sprouts, recycled Christmas gifts, optimistic diets and even more optimistic New Year plans, frostbite, reindeer jumpers, pretending Christmas is not happening by loudly singing Heatwave over schmaltzy Santa songs and always remembering that most things can be solved with a glass of mulled wine and chocolate coated gingerbread. Continue reading →
Friend (pronounced /frɛnd/) 1. person with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically one exclusive of sexual or family relations. 2. a member of the Religious Society of Friends; a Quaker.
Friends are usually people. If you don’t have people friends, animals make a satisfying substitute. Imaginary friends are great as well because it means that you are your own best friend. Whether you like it or not, friends are a mirror of your life, your heart, your mind, your soul. Continue reading →
14 Stages of Developing the Malaise & How to Combat None of Them
But first of all, how do we attract this most alluring of possible mates?
Work non-stop for an extended period of time.
Make sure you take a combination of underground transport, where the air-shafts and sudden bursts of icy drafts send shivers down your spine.
Take your coat off as soon as you enter the stuffy, crowded, germ-infested carriage.
Work in a place which has air-conditioning so that getting used to an artificially induced cold in late October will make your system work overtime.
Ignore any signs your body sends out to slow down, cause really, it isn’t that bad.
Every time you’ve slept you will feel better until later when you don’t.
Take paracetamol and adopt the placebo-thinking that this will take care of your bodily malfunctions.
Prove to yourself that you are a hero and stronger than you think by going to work anyway. Then watch yourself falter.
What Not To Do Once the Amour Fou Has Overtaken Your Body, Mind and Soul:
Don’t walk into a 24-hour-Tesco without pharmacy with your hat pulled down halfyour face at 11 pm Friday night when the cashier is counting a stash of cash. Because by that time the throat pain is so bad that you croak at him in the hope of receiving pain killers in exchange, or any pill really.