Nicholas Lezard

And with that, my mood is as empty as my glass.

There was something gleefully life-affirming about this pickup-owning character.

I knew something was up when I ordered a Negroni.

He follows me everywhere, but slowly, on arthritic legs.

An establishment where my heart and my lighter were stolen.

But everything else is falling to bits.

I am relieved of the incessant, humiliating nag of being broke for the rest of the month.

They text me to say they hadn’t forgotten the deal we struck two weeks ago.

Despite my best efforts, it seems my council tax bill has come a-knocking.

As another anniversary in the Hove-l goes by, I realise I’m happy enough.