Of a night, Mr. Love, who saw all (or so he liked to believe) would watch Gim shooting through space. At his command (or so he liked to believe.)
Pim Comic Strip
How I came to write Pim
People often ask how I came to write Pim. It seems like a thousand years since I discovered Pim, or that Pim
discovered me. Thankfully I kept detailed notes and saved photos from that time. While I can’t swear to the
absolute accuracy of what you are about to read, I have done my best to capture the essence of how Pim entered my life.
A faint, bemused smile formed on Mr. Love’s visage as Ukifune turned and walked away. Eventually Mr. Love reached into a baggy pocket, removed his phone, and called his nieces.
Modelling opportunities were in the air. A few kilometres away Mr. Love was making a similar pitch to Ukifune.
Minutes later, in a Polanco café, Slim—cursing bits of queso and jalapeño muffin stuck in Slim’s new grill—was scouted by one of Mexico’s most renowned fashion designers.
Not having much need for money, Slim used Ukifune’s hard earned cash to buy a lot of bling.
Knowing Gwyneth needed cheering up, Pim and Bim appeared before her as though they’d insinuated themselves through cracks in the floor and up onto her chairs.
Eating the very last of Ukifune’s cookies, Gwyneth’s aspect was desolate and abject.
The Well-Dressed Albatross had made his way to a terrace of Castillo de Chapultepec, glancing from time to time at Popocatepetl, the winds being favourable today for its viewing.
Ukifune was having the time of her life and had pitched a tent under stars, exactly the kind of thing girl scout training had prepared her for. Nearby Mr. Love lurked.
At the very moment of Clive’s revelation, on another part of the slope Pim and Bim were experiencing an inverse version of the same.
