One’s experience of time is ordinarily at its thinnest and most malleable first thing in the morning. A five minute snooze can feel like hours of sleep, and a half hour can vanish in a single subject of thought. It is these moments that time is most clearly perforated and measuring it seems most absurd. Continue reading “Fly on the Wall”
I swatted two flies in my bedroom.
I once hit a cat on the top of the head with a piece of kindling – it wasn’t hard, but enough to make it scarper.
I swatted loads of flies on a rocking horse ride in Tenerife and enjoyed it because it was satisfying, until my aunty stopped me. I then knew it had been wrong to do and and was worried that I enjoyed it. Continue reading “A list of creatures I have hurt (in no particular date order)”