‘I lie silently as the last dregs of my once transcendent seriousness drain away. What I’m mostly feeling now is lonely.’
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‘I wrote more to occupy my time and because writing was an activity suited to my hyperactive imagination and love of language, than to learn about Japan.’
Jonathan Tulloch shares the second of his gustatory delights, the heterogeneous cakes of summer, from the societal nuances of home-baked vs. shop-bought to the unfairness of selective corpulence and his granddad’s final Victoria Sandwich.
‘As with exercise, if I don’t write for a few days I begin to feel flabby and on edge. It’s hard to feel at ease until I am back at it.’