by Adam Gilmour
I can’t cope with this kind of pressure. Life used to be toy tractors, cycling down hills, football in the park, muddy trouser-sleeves and nettle-stung ankles. Then it was homework, comics, Clearasil and StreetFighter II. Then it got interesting, what with the social awkwardness, slacker films, study periods, shots, wage-packets and stop-outs. But next is here, and there's loans, friend networks, functions, weddings, funerals, christenings, lets, sub-lets, promises, letdowns, deadlines, barking and banging at the door, a distinct lack of hours, minutes, daylight. Maybe I shouldn’t have hung around for so long on that leisurely bit before, but there isn’t time or space to think about that now, acutally, cripes, this is it, I’ve just run out.
Adam Gilmour, 26, is currently studying in Manchester, England. When not reading or writing, he can be found bartending at a local Japanese restaurant. He thinks John Wyndham, Fleetwood Mac and hummus are all vital components of an enjoyable lifestyle. (Click here to make a donation to Adam, half of which will support 6S.)