Guarding the threshold

‘What will you miss most?’ the book says. ‘About what?’ I say. ‘Me,’ says the book. ‘I didn’t know you … More

What drives you?

‘What drives you?’ ‘I’ve only just woken up!’ I say to the book. ‘Don’t care. It’s morning. Work to be … More

‘Aren’t you going get the phone?’ I say. ‘It won’t be for me.’ With a little groan the book … More

‘What do you think?’ I say to the book. It has held on to my poem for a week, and … More

Even though it is sweltering, the book is wearing its dinner jacket. Its legs are stretched out, feet on my … More

The adventures of the book have now clocked up fifty blog posts. Here is a list of all of them, … More

The book is in its gardening clothes. ‘I’m going out,’ it says. ‘You’ve let the lawn go again.’ ‘You can’t … More

‘I don’t know if I can do this any more.’ ‘Do what?’ the book says. ‘This.’ ‘Sit around waiting for … More

‘Listening to the cricket again?’ says the book. ‘I think I’ll join you.’ ‘What do you mean, ‘again’?’ I say. … More

‘That thing you mentioned the other day,’ the book says. ‘Is it true?’ ‘What thing?’ I say. ‘About there being … More

The book is sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by small scraps of paper. Some have whole sentences on them. … More

‘What are you doing?’ I say. ‘What does it look like?’ the book says. ‘It looks like you are tearing … More

‘Hullo,’ says the book. ‘I thought you had gone away.’ ‘I lied,’ says the book. ‘What are you going to … More

‘Hullo!’ says the book. ‘Have we been introduced?’ I say. ‘I’m your new book!’ ‘But I haven’t finished the last … More

Padding down the stairs to make my mid-morning coffee, I become aware of a large black bag lying in the … More