“Thursday morning. I usually let my Mum wake me up but today I have set my alarm for seven. Even from under my duvet, I can hear it bleating on the other side of my room. I hid it inside… — Joe Dunthorne Copy Share Image
“Our Welsh teacher thinks he is young. He tells us that the Welsh for skiving in town is ‘mitchio yn y dre’.” — Joe Dunthorne Copy Share Image
I don't know if I've come of age, but I'm certainly older now. I feel shrunken, as if there's a tiny ancient Oliver Tate inside me operating the levers of a life-size Oliver-shaped shell. A shell on which a decrepit picture show replays the same handful of images. Every night I come to the same place and wait till the… — Joe Dunthorne Copy Share
“One more word that may be useful in the heat of passion: dong. Dong sounds like someone very important has just arrived.” — Joe Dunthorne Copy Share Image
My mother tells me I do not chew my food enough; she says I am making it harder for my body to get the… — Joe Dunthorne Copy Share Image
“I tell my parents I'm going out for pudding. They think this might be a nickname for heroin.Mum makes the international face for 'is… — Joe Dunthorne Copy Share Image
“I authorize an air strike that reduces my street to rubble; I fold Swansea Bay like an enormous omelette and scoff it all” — Joe Dunthorne Copy Share Image
I spin around on the swivel chair and look up at the ceiling; Oliver being Oliver being Oliver being Oliver. I am suddenly aware… — Joe Dunthorne Copy Share Image
“I want the evening upon which we lose our collective virginities to be special. I'm no parthenologist but I suspect that Jordana's virginity is… — Joe Dunthorne Copy Share Image
“Oliver, we’ve got something to tell you,” Dad says, dumping a cardboard box full of garden waste into a toad green mangler. Unlike the… — Joe Dunthorne Copy Share Image
For my last birthday, Dad bought me a pocket-sized Collins English Dictionary. It would only fit in a pocket that had been specially designed. — Joe Dunthorne Copy Share Image
