Ben Welsher | Writings

Belgo Centraal, 50 Earlham Street London 10/09/2016 The noise rattled, reverberated through my cranium. It pressed the infinite planes of its fingers onto...not my skull that was bypassed but onto my conscious thoughts. It compressed the airy spaces of my meditation and chased my reason down collapsing synaptic corridors. A single question is a cattle prod to my mind and they were as a swarm of bees, which beer out of a thousand? Are you having a starter? Wanna share? Which moules out of.... since when did choices go beyond white wine sauce? And all in what is essentially a dungeon. 3/5