Books, Baby, Books

Everything I read

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As Arnold points out, there is an otherwise inexplicable shift in direction in the Piccadilly line passing east out of South Kensington. “In fact,” she writes, “the tunnel curves between Knightsbridge and South Kensington stations because it was impossible to drill through the mass of skeletal remains buried in Hyde Park.” I will admit that I think she means “between Knightsbridge and Hyde Park Corner”—although there is apparently a “small plague pit dating from around 1664” beneath Knightsbridge Green—but I will defer to Arnold’s research.

But to put that another way, the ground was so solidly packed with the interlocked skeletons of 17th-century victims of the Great Plague that the Tube’s 19th-century excavation teams couldn’t even hack their way through them all. The Tube thus had to swerve to the side along a subterranean detour in order to avoid this huge congested knot of skulls, ribs, legs, and arms tangled in the soil—an artificial geology made of people, caught in the throat of greater London.

London and Its Dead

i read shit like this and think what could my imagination possibly have to add

like how do i write something about london that’s weirder than london already is?

(via weunderstandthelights)

Reblogging for the comments. Most of my books are set in London and researching them throws up loads of weird facts.

(Source: saxifraga-x-urbium, via ironfries)

Filed under London Writing

168,188 notes

ohawkguy:

the notebook problem: you see a notebook. you want to buy the notebook. but you know you have like TEN OTHER NOTEBOOKS. most which are STILL EMPTY. you don’t need to notebook. you’re probably not gonna use the notebook anyway. what’s the point? DONT BUY THE NOTEBOOK. you buy the notebook.

This is my life.

(via rabbitinthewoods)

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I am feeding my friend’s very needy cat while they are on holiday. This is her guilt facing me at the window as I leave.

I am feeding my friend’s very needy cat while they are on holiday. This is her guilt facing me at the window as I leave.

Filed under cats sad cats