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Danger: Void Behind Door

Writing by Matt Haynes

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Danger: Void Behind Door

Danger: Void Behind Door

A brief rumination on the fickleness of both women and space-time, and the possibility that access to some sort of infinite primordial darkness can be gained from the southbound Bakerloo Line platform at Waterloo.

Threnody on the Suicide of a Parking Meter in Dagenham Brook, E10

Danger: Void Behind Door

O dark devourer of the driver’s coin,
what broken dreams was this leap meant to fix?
What hope-denuded skyline did enjoin
you to cast off on this East London Styx?

The New Romantic Luge

Danger: Void Behind Door

Hackney’s lost ski-slope, and how Boy George nearly brought Duran Duran’s career to a premature end when, clutching a garish mojito, he hurtled down the dendix piste using Simon le Bon as a toboggan.

Threnody on the Death of a Street Lamp on Lollard Street, SE11

Danger: Void Behind Door

O noble lantern ’neath whose kindly fire
my love and I did oft together lark,
our bodies, lust-engorged, ’twined in desire –
why hast thou gone and left us in the dark?

I Was Just Trying To Be Nice

Danger: Void Behind Door

Across the road is a nail salon, then a jeweller’s, a florist’s, and – I stare at the words above the next doorway: Divine Money, Financial Services. Why is that so familiar? Obviously it’s the sort of name you remember, but – where would I be remembering it from?

Is This What People Do?

Danger: Void Behind Door

The lorries are starting to move now, rumbling across the deck of the James Newman and onto the ramps that shake and ring beneath their tyres. He is supposed to leave too; there is an announcement over the tannoy, every time a ferry docks, forbidding passengers to remain on board.

Iain and Will have a Cup of Tea

Danger: Void Behind Door

Two disconsolate psychogeographers reflect on how some of the ley lines that were dug up to build the Basketball Arena for the 2012 Olympics had been there since the days of King Lud.

Kensal Rise, Early In The Morning

Danger: Void Behind Door

A driver on the last remaining Routemaster service, the 159 from Marble Arch to Streatham, reflects on the relative inflexibility of women and buses.

Eton Mess

Danger: Void Behind Door

How I was abducted by aliens from South Harrow station and had the true nature of Boris Johnson revealed to me after being forced to mate against my wishes.

Helena Bonham Carter and the Thirty-Foot Elephant

Danger: Void Behind Door

How Josephine’s coquettish suggestion that Napoleon surprise her with something long and wrinkly led to a giant elephant being installed in the Place de la Bastille.

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“Oooh, Argos!” she squealed, teetering on the seat to press her face to the window as we ground up Kentish Town Road. Unamazed, her mother pointed out it was Poundstretcher.

Serendipity Doo-Dahs

Ceci n’est pas un Wheelie Bin

René Magritte’s time with LT’s maintenance department didn't last long, as his playful signage at Stratford station provoked not only much philosophical debate in the canteen, but also a major hygiene problem on the southbound Jubilee Line.

The Twelve Days of Smoke

Partridges? In London? Sorry, guv. Do you a nice pigeon, though. Sorry it's a bit wet.

Kensal Rise, Early In The Morning

A driver on the last remaining Routemaster service, the 159 from Marble Arch to Streatham, reflects on the relative inflexibility of women and buses.

No one likes them, they don’t care

Latest signs indicate an infestation of Tory MPs on Kennington Road; thankfully, they're all taken down again after the election.

You’re So Quiet You Sound Like Aldershot

Why it’s not just the lack of an internationally renowned art gallery, good tapas and an occasionally murderous independence movement that distinguishes Leyton from Bilbao.

Barney’s Only Disruptive Because He’s Bored…

After a surveyor’s report says that the social cost of levelling the playing fields of Eton might be incompatible with Tory spending plans, David Cameron tells a bright kid from the Walworth Road not to throw his knife and hoodie away just yet.

The Peckham Panama

How a vision of cauliflowers being ferried from Epsom to Rotherhithe led to the construction of the (Not Particularly) Grand Surrey Canal and eventually Burgess Park.

Boris Johnson versus Dean Cox

A melancholy reflection on whether baklavas, beer, aubergine rasavangy and an 82nd-minute equaliser at Brisbane Road can ever compensate for the existence of Boris Johnson.

We Need To Talk About Neddy

A five-year-old labrador that was swept up in the excitement of the 2011 London riots lives to regret looting Primark.

A Higher Evil

Are independent bookshops their own worst enemy, or just my own worst enemy?

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