Being a compulsive writer—in the sense that I write, I enjoy it and I can't stop doing it—I am convinced that our mind is 'the Aladdin's lamp'. All we have to do is tickle our brain and off we go: a puff of smoke containing every possible dream and desire comes out, ready to be unravelled in front of our very eyes. With a stroke of my hand i touch my Aladdin's lamp waiting for the genie to come out of my ears. It doesn't matter where I am, it can happen anytime, anywhere: while I am sitting on the bus, queing up at the supermarket, buying a sweater or chopping onions; not that I buy sweaters or chop onions that often. ...One night I found a big piece of cheese, perfectly sealed in its airtight plastic wrapper, on top of a letter box in Wimbledon. I recognized it immediately it was a gigantic piece, slice, chunk of Parmesan glowing under the reddish-orange street light. How could anyone have missed it? Parmesan cheese under a spot light! It could have been ...
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