47 Random Fragments of Unauthorised Hope and Despair


THE WOMAN just couldn’t stop wailing, screaming, pleading with us – as if we were suddenly going to feel sorry for her and stop.

Some of them get like that. They can’t accept we’ve found them out.

“It was only a bloody book,” she was sobbing. Or words to that effect.

“It’s only a few little stories! What harm can that do to anyone, for pity’s sake? I haven’t even read them! You know that! I didn’t have time! I haven’t even read them!”

Then she went all still, like she’d had some moment of great insight.

“Hang on!” she said. “What was it doing in there anyway? What was the book doing in the library in the first place if anyone who got it out was going to be arrested for terrorism?”

Mick and I looked at each other.

We just laughed.

Stupid cow.