October 9 2004 The Ship: Magic, Fashion & Ronnie are sat around one of the barrels in the front window. Magic nods, smiles through a beer froth beard. His teeth are small. Fashion & Ronnie are sharing a giant Yorkshire pudding. "A hat," says Ronnie. And, I suppose, it is rather like a hat - … Continue reading Notes from a fragile island 1
October 29th 2019. Noon. Schöneberg. Sat at the bar in the Café Nostalgie at Crellestrasse 22 with the locals at noon, drinking Berliner Kindls, Monika's little hound, Shirley, listens to the scraps of German, scraps of English being passed between us. A Jimi Hendrix bootleg plays over the old system. After sometime I ask for directions … Continue reading Run As Fast As You Can, Bear.
Kreuzberg. 08:00 Monday October 28th 2019. Soft electric light illuminates the calm room. Thirty-five tables. Each table set simply: some for lone diners, some for couples, a few for family; cutlery, white crockery, triangle of napkin, heavy, cool folds of cotton. Some settings will remain empty and some will be filled. I cross the wooden floor … Continue reading Run As Fast As You Can, Bear.
Tegel Airport, Berlin. October 27th 2019. Tegel must have left a strong impression on me last year because I pass through the arrival gate, through the crowds, through the airport gleam with barely a thought or care for direction and, with the sliding doors shushing behind me, I am, once again, giddy with the almost … Continue reading Run As Fast As You Can, Bear.
Penn Beacon. October 26th 2019 23:00 Home late last night from London. The train was slow, but I don't know or remember the reason given. I was exhausted from the journey, from the solid shape of work. I unpacked a bag and repacked it with different stuff. I downloaded my boarding pass, prompting the usual … Continue reading Run As Fast As You Can, Bear.
September 19th 2019. Rising up out of Monument metro station. The steps are greasy. The final strains of some saxophone jazz. There is a dead wasp on a step. It has lost almost all colour. When I reach Grey Street the sax noise falls away and I see that it came from a tape machine … Continue reading dream diaries…72