Notebook

Fragments, essays and field notes

  • Adventures in success

    I made my own path to Wimbledon and back. Got to keep moving through the aches and pains. Calves, shins, hamstrings, soles. I stopped only for water and Fridge Raiders chicken from a Tesco. It’s still hot but there are more clouds today, thank God.

    I get back and I down a Ramune in bed. From inside I smell petrichor it’s unreal, so I flip open a deckchair and sit in the garden, praying for rain, then the heavens open. The sky is piercing bright, I close my eyes, honeycomb orange. Loud music in my ears, I have ideas. The rain relents, a cat coming and going. My T-shirt is damp now, but I’m going to stick around.

  • To pack

  • Communion

    In the beginning I was christened. Then I was confirmed. 

    My parents ran a Christian camp for teenagers. Every summer meant worship, games, Bible talks and the annual trip to Alton Towers.

    Years later, I was old enough to go without them. I read the Bible for myself. I prayed. I believed. I remember the warm blanket of certainty.

    When I was 17, my philosophy teacher introduced us to empiricism. I found The God Delusion in the college library and started asking questions I couldn’t unask. I felt guilty.

    (I still listen to Blessed Be Your Name sometimes.)

    Last month I went to my mate’s ordination. When the bread came to me, I took communion.

    I don’t know what it means yet.