Heads up. Anyone following along at home, this month you need to put aside some money for paints.
Bristol is a city with a lot of rental options. If you are willing to head away from the centre, you can find a decent room at a decent price. But I chose to stay in Clifton.
For security I will not tell you my exact address, but to give you a rough idea, the building is terraced and Georgian. What lies behind the door does not reflect this historical exterior. My studio flat hides within the innards, designed with the checklist of a young professional in mind. Rent steals over half my pay bracket the minute the tax is sorted. Everyone else in the building arrives home in suits.
The double bed has a mattress where the springs make themselves known. The walls are beige meets magnolia. The floors resemble wood, but were never part of a single tree. The oven cooks food without love or attention.
None of my friends have visited yet. I need to organise drinks, or an all night computer game session. But would my Butter Mouse stuff need hiding? Would they think my cork board covered in photos, notes and playing cards was weird? Plus a huge triangle of clothes sits in the no man’s land between the bed and the bathroom. Nobody wants to see that.
erhaps next year I will move out to the suburbs, and join a group of people of a similar age. But this solitude is perfect for my project. I am fifteen minutes walk from all the sights of Clifton. No-one disturbs me during late night sessions spent writing and searching for clues. This flat will remain my home for at least as long as these hours are productive.
My copy of the Butter Mouse’s book is getting dog eared, and I am underlining more and more sentences. And in exciting news, I think I have spotted something crucial in this month's extract. Maybe it is just a creative exercise manual. Maybe it is just a chance for a skint street performer to upgrade his income, and spread artistic inspiration at the same time. But the more I read, the more I am certain there is an underlying secret to this tome. That he has hidden some kind of message within the text.
A theory is formulating in my brain. This year I have to stay close to Clifton. I have to remain on my own.
Especially when it is about to get messy.
