“It’s funny how a single bed sums up your childhood: the ‘Goodnight’ story,
the lazy fight to keep my eyes open as the Famous Five chased the Spook Train
into the mountain; the sounds of my parents, gods of the downstairs world,
arranging the universe over gin and Tchaikovsky. Then, years later, the
daily wank, naked on the bed, eyes closed, headphones blazing Pink Floyd;
the uninhibited gasp at the end, the removal of the ‘phones, the opening of
the eyes, and the noticing of the steaming mug of coffee on the bedside table
that hadn’t been there when I started”
Michael: Diary Of A Diary




