Tuesday, 28 September 2004

Night Of The Long Gins, Part 2

I am just settling down to resume my reading, when a black mark on the whitewashed wall up by the rafters catches my attention. The black mark is about a foot long, and two inches wide. The black mark moves. It is a giant millipede. It has a slow, thick crawl, like the sly lift of an oily eyebrow. Where is it going? What is it doing in here? Why must all these bothersome and icky things live in my house? Surely they belong outside, next to nature, in the bush? I stare at this ugly thing, shuddering at the thought of it falling down the back of my shirt some day. You will be the first to know if it happens.

Tomorrow sees the start of a new and occasional series called ‘How To’. And I’ve just this second realised that I’ve completely stolen that from Guy Browning in The Observer. Bollix. Never mind, mine will be different and unique. Stay tuned!