Despite appearances, I am not much given to writing about my personal life. Acres of print about my family, my moods, my eternal and meandering self-reflections have been produced. There is also the very fact of this newsletter, I suppose, but not so much about boys and various, or invariable,
I night not tell you if I win the Prime Minister's Literary Award for Non-Fiction, but there will be signs. Ha ha, I'm fully kidding. I did win it. The news was everywhere anyway. I was a push notification! I've discovered in the course
The ball soared over the towering fence and landed right in front of me as I walked down a pedestrian only cobblestone street in Abbesses. It was the size of a football (soccer, if you're basic) but lighter, and made from a spongy blue foam. And now it
I was the first person at my coffee shop one morning this week and there I found a lovely young French man with a pencil moustache who looked lost and alone, as if he had broken into the place and then decided on a whim to try and run it.
There was a man at the ice creamery the other day and I cannot stop thinking about him. He looked about 50. No family in tow, indeed no other travelling friends or acquaintances in sight. From his person there were wires, running out of his ears and a battery pack
The kinds of grievous injuries for which I might be covered under my travel insurance policy are oddly combinatorial, I noted with some grim amusement from the couch while I read. A lousy $25,000 for the loss of both feet or the loss of both hands. Similarly, the loss