Sunday, 7 December 2014

Mobile phone contacts maintenance

I remember telling McGowan how I'd been flicking through all my contacts the night before when it occurred to me that many of them couldn't be considered real friends. I decided to delete a whole bunch, even if they were people I'd known forever. It bothered McGowan that I would do that. "Those are your contacts man," he said. "Yeah? So?" "Don't you care about your contacts?" "Why should I?" "I just don't get why you do stuff like that," he said,. "I wish you wouldn't do stuff like that. It's depressing." I didn't see why it should be depressing to him. They were my contacts. Then one day I got a call out of the blue. "Hello?" I said. "Hey," replied the voice on the other end. "Who is this?" I asked, not having the number in my contacts. It turned out to be McGowan. We haven't talked since,

To Rise Again at a Decent Hour, Joshua Ferris

Tuesday, 14 October 2014

Sickboy wasn't called that for nothing

Aw. It's always nice to leave somebody when they say they'd like to see you again, because there will inevitably come a time when you leave them because they don't want to see you again. 

Porno, Irvine Welsh

Such affection

Really, he became like the son I didn't want and never had. 

And Through It All I've Always Laughed, Count Arthur strong

Monday, 18 August 2014

The silver fox hides a heavy heart

Harold sat in silence. The silver-haired gentleman was in truth nothing like the man Harold had first imagined him to be. He was a chap like himself with a unique pain; and yet there would be no knowing that if you passed him in the street, or sat opposite him in a cafe and did not share his teacake. Harold pictured the gentleman on a station platform, smart in his suit, looking no different from anyone else. It must be the same all over England. People were buying milk, or filling their cars with petrol, or even posting letters. And what no one else knew was the appalling weight of the thing they were carrying inside.

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, Rachel Joyce

Monday, 23 June 2014

I know this well

Their conversation was an odd, semi-surreal mixture of deliberate banalities, light ironies and playful banter. Jonathan felt at home with this. In a world that obstinately refused to make any sense at all, Jonathon had always felt it was presumptuous to talk as though it did.

The Perpetual Astonishment of Jonathon Fairfax, Christopher Shevlin

Wednesday, 11 June 2014

Not a sports fan, then

She had long since moved into the Cricketer's flat in st John's wood, next to Lords where he did a lot of his important business of propelling a little ball around a field.

Knot, Mark Watson

Monday, 19 May 2014

I believe

Miss Tick sniffed. 'You could say this advice is priceless,' she said, 'are you listening?'

'Yes,' said Tiffany.

'Good. Now... if you trust in yourself...'

'Yes?'

'...and believe in your dreams...'

'Yes?'

'...and follow your star...' Miss Tick went on.

'Yes?'

'...you'll still get beaten by people who spent their time working hard and learning things and weren't so lazy. Goodbye.'

The Wee Free Men, Terry Pratchett