Berg by Ann Quin
“Help me, help me,” I cry, “I’m too sober to read”.
“Help me, help me,” I cry, “I’m too sober to read”.
When I was young it was normal practice for supermarkets to fill the spaces around the tills – where peopleContinue Reading
I know I should be spending my free time writing something that isn’t this blog. I know I should haveContinue Reading
Jean-Paul Sartre is another one of those hip, nihilistic-type novelists than whiney, depressive young men read in-between bouts of binge-drinkingContinue Reading