Tag Archives: prison

Sharan’s Leave-taking

Adrian arranged to meet up town, after the party which had been brought forward to start at six thirty. I was early and hung about Jerusalem Bar and Kitchen before making yet another sortie in, at which point I met … Continue reading

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John’s Visit

John phoned, complaining I hadn’t answered time before. “I was hulling strawberries in the kitchen.” He could have any amount of sex he wanted in prison, he said. I went to meet him off the train as he wanted, missing … Continue reading

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Tim’s Party

Because I’d missed meeting John off the train, he’d the opportunity to ask my neighbour Diana for a cigarette and be told to fuck off. “Can’t a convict cadge a fag any more?” he complained, finding it difficult to take … Continue reading

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Home Visit

I shaved and showered for John’s coming. Jacyntha had sent an uncorrected version of the print-copy to Pam, cover designer, to do whatever to the front page and send onto the printer. I’ve corrected the misattribution to an archive other … Continue reading

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Chomu Party

This Saturday I took the train all the way to Waterloo, the Jubilee to Canada Water, the East London to Whitechapel and whichever, District or Hammersmith and City, to Mile End. It was quicker. Tim let me in. His two … Continue reading

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Visit

On the bus down I read a book of Pliny’s, and ate a couple of sandwiches for lunch. I was the only one got off at Standford Hill. John was wearing a new top from his mother and reproached wryly … Continue reading

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Phone Saga

The spin dryer wouldn’t work. I went to Currys. I could have a spin dryer delivered. On the brink of completing the order, a phone no was required. “I don’t have a phone.” I don’t have a car either. “If … Continue reading

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