
The Visitor's Book
I have known Hollis Berridge since we were schoolboys, and I will say at the outset that there has never in all that …
— Long-Form Dispatches
Essays and long-form writing that doesn’t fit neatly under code or craft — reflections, arguments, reports from further up the stack.

I have known Hollis Berridge since we were schoolboys, and I will say at the outset that there has never in all that …

I should perhaps begin by saying that Henry Avening was, when I first knew him, an honest writer — by which I mean only …

Audio reading — narrated by Julian Download the audio reading I have known Edmund Carraway the better part of thirty …

I have set down what follows because Hollis Vane asked me to, and because I do not entirely trust myself to remember it …

I have set down what follows exactly as Mr. Aldous Renn told it to me, on three evenings in the autumn of his …

I set down this account not because I expect to be believed, but because the alternative — to carry it alone — has …

I had known Aldous Verrall, in the loose and intermittent way one knows a man who was once one’s tutor, for the …

Red of Titian, red of blood and throne mercury sulfide crushed from cinnabar stone prisoners in Almadén, digging their …

I had gone up into the hills to write the obituary of a craft, and I will confess at the outset that I went in the …

Abyss open, fallen angel cast away chained, pixelated daydreams display sulfric inferno, platonic heat burning fresh …

light blue, pink colours sun waves goodbye on a life lived, deep truths mixed with lie rope hanging, well knotted the …

Ackchyually… that is not a Vizagapatam piece, note the deeply carved floral ebony patterns that give it away as a …

A post about delicable delicous desires to be done in 2026.

Photos from 2025, displayed in chronological order.

fire and frost, irritate the skin pain and sorrow our lifelong friend breath short, exhale watch the mist fog over the …

forlorn, adrift am i acursed blood boiling heart ready to burst in the halll the fan doth squeak downcast my mind, moood …

I’ve been listening to a reading of Dante’s Divine Comedy recently and in it I think that Dante mets a poet …

a place that could have been but never was is it dark, is it light, silence or a buzz in this place, hope does permate …