LeanOnUs

AS ALWAYS, THIS is the time of year when ghosts are flying around me like the hopes and fears of all the tears never to be shed, and the grief of those already flowing into the river of time like a small tributary. Outside, the world is covered with a springtime drizzle of polluted water from the murky heavens. Trees are trying to bud, and there is the slightest hint of green on everything – like the peachy fuzz on the face of an adolescent boy who hasn’t started to shave yet

ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a man who lived in a small pocket-sized English city, and his name was Peter. Due to the prevailing socio-economic political climate and circumstances beyond his control, he had a total lifestyle failure and was left cowering and gibbering in the corner of his living room; when he wasn’t doing that, he routinely hid behind the settee. He realised one day that he’d accidentally failed to exit the front door for a fortnight, and considered this was n