Friday, July 16, 2004



That wasn't you? Was it? Leaving me signs? In the toilet? The toilet? That teasing scent of lavender? The radiant warmth of the seat? The little caress of the breeze? That shaft of light streaming through the window? A glowing white book called "God's Last Offer", perched on the paper-dispenser? But you don't exist? Do you? God?


has all this got something to do with that gay guy, who is right now slinking along the corridor, in and out of the offices, dressed in purple, asking if anyone's found some book about global environmental dangers - he can't recall the title - that his friend David leant him?!

(Now, God. If you and he are the same, & if I decide to keep quiet and to hold on to the book - then, please forgive me. Or thanks for the gift. Or both, if you feel like it. Whatever seems right.)