Author Archives: jonathan trustram

“Mummy! The King’s dead!”

Mummy! the King’s dead! This story could only have one title, but has the title ruined the story? It’s something to do with growing older: ‘spots of time’ as I think Wordsworth called them, or one liners as I tend … Continue reading

Posted in my life | 1 Comment

1 New Change

It began promisingly, with the boys’ own drama of demolition and diggers and a new view of St Paul’s from the east: And giant bundles of steel swinging through the first cold air of winter, two years ago: As the … Continue reading

Posted in in the City, language | 1 Comment

A long exposure

Ten or twelve years ago, two or three years before she died,  I went up to the attic at my mother’s house to go through boxes of photos and photo albums and among the holiday snaps and smiling children and … Continue reading

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a mean old bastard

It’s someone with a freedom pass who gets on the bus,  sees that the oyster card reader is broken and feels a pang of disappointment: he hasn’t saved any money. Or, he has, but so has everybody else. It’s happened … Continue reading

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morrisons to shop at more reasons

I thought you might like to see a picture of my hair after it has been washed with Morrison’s Value Shampoo, which is peachy pink, similar to that colour city girls paint their cheeks, and costs a truly astonishing 38 … Continue reading

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toilet paper

(march 2009) Childhood memory or shopping list? Who’s been taking the toilet paper or loo paper from the bathroom? Sheila says two rolls have just disappeared. Have the lodgers got colds?  240 sheets to a roll (where did you get … Continue reading

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then the train came in

October 7. There’s a new advert for the Comedy Channel at Borough tube station: According to some research that we just made up (I dropped the dog’s lead to write it down on  my way home and an official comes … Continue reading

Posted in crude satire, diary, hilarious | Tagged | 1 Comment

hydrochloric acid, or, it’s so easy to become a trouble maker

I went to B and Q to see what I could find out about bathrooms (we’re getting a bathroom put into the flat at the top of the house) and buy a tape measure, a new bow saw, some secateurs, … Continue reading

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la gargouille bourgeoise

I was thinking again about our exit from the Blackwall tunnel on our way to France. We’ve just emerged from the narrow coils of the tunnel, the road is still a single carriage way and I haven’t seen a sign … Continue reading

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