Binded by me blinded I fell behind did I, dead eye. Dead eye disclosed this exposed globe close to closed, I sigh. On my watch the world watches whirled wishwashes, I wish. Wishing days stopped to stop daze and glaze my eyes glazed, it’s pish. I count as a cunt, can’t canter, see I see…
We knew the drill. We’d clamber onto the number 35 bus, hand over half of our student loan for a return ticket to the city, then hold tight until we swung onto St Stephen’s Street. On arrival, it was straight into QD, a temple of almost-useful products at student-friendly prices. Jam jars? Check. Curtain rails?…
Andrew Ansell discusses the approaching centenary of the First World War and the legacy that has been left behind.
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