Just behind my work place, if you walk over to Brooke’s Court and on to Leather Lane you’ll find yourself immersed among a small market place full of world cuisine and custom jewellery. A few weeks back I was in the used bookstore next to the Lebanese restaurant wavering through the fiction shelf and I managed to find some books by Banana Yoshimoto. For a few quid you can’t really go wrong.
On the tube this morning I was racing through the last few pages of Kitchen; Moonlight Shadow, desperately trying to finish the book before I got to my stop. I managed to get to page 148 and realised the last page was missing.
My boss is one of kindest people I have ever met. If I am ever late I sometimes feel hesitations of guilt. His wife had a baby the other day. They named him Digby Elliot James. He also gave me the afternoon off.
I took the tube to Oxford Street., and walked over to Great Portland Street to a sparsely inhabited café that I used to frequent. I bought tomato and basil soup to-go and stuffed half a baguette in my jacket pocket.
The weather’s been pretty mild as of late. It’s nice.
I went to Borders, upstairs, traced through the rows of books until I found the Y’s and found Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto. I leaned against the shelf reading the last page while holding half a cup of soup in one hand and half a baguette still sticking out of my jacket pocket. I think, out of all the short stories by her I think Moonlight Shadow is the best. It’s hammy, maybe a little gay, but it’s quite alright. Anyway, as I filed the book back into the shelf, a worker from the store asked me to leave. No food or drink allowed in the store.
I went over to Denmark Street to see some friends who were rehearsing at the studio. Now I am sitting a fag-smoking-distance away from Soho Square in the reception of my friend’s work place typing this entry.