Tom’s Food Diary

I’m working for a restaurant magazine this week. Here is an account of what I ate for lunch: Day 1 There is no canteen here. The only place that serves food in walking distance is a gargantuan leisure centre, home to a...

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Hangover

The journey lasts twenty-nine and a half steps. I wake. I don’t know if it is night or day. My tongue feels out ulcers and layers of staleness in my parched papyrus mouth. It tastes of, or maybe just is, rotting flesh. I drag...

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