Or maybe it’s a stranded message in a bottle, or a water-lily which has suddenly blossomed out in an unexpected place. Or else it’s a pair of underpants from a woman who’s been maimed, lying like white foam among the reeds?...

Internet is the newest thing. I look at it statistically; if you answer a hundred you might get five replies, out of five you might meet one. First you meet. Go for a walk if the weather’s nice. But it has to reach a point where they invite me home or I invite them home. That’s the goal for a man: body contact...