47 Random Fragments of Unauthorised Hope and Despair


ALL day long I’d been hearing other people’s conversations. There were the other guys in the kitchens, the customers out front, the radio in the taxi back into town.

Now, as I walked the last bit home along the seafront, the missing link that would save me a small fortune in accumulated long-way-round fares, there was nothing.

I could hear the waves crashing onto the shingle on my left. I could hear the sound of a motorbike up on the main road, somewhere, but there were no voices and no words to entertain me.

A big empty space had opened up in my head, ready for my innermost thoughts to rush into.

Fortunately, I had my phone on me and I rang Richie to see what he’d made of Thursday night’s Celebrity Witch Hunt.