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.
For days the supine Mr. Love had nothing to do but stare out the undraped window at the unchanging sky. Until a familiar profile appeared.
The guild built Mr. Love a shelter. Finding him too unpleasant to remain with they provided him with food, water and medicine, and departed.
Mr. Love would not have reached Glim, but for the guild of bricklayers who came upon his shrivelled form and built a recovery unit for him.
Starved, burnt, without purpose, Mr. Love crawled hither and thither across the sand. Happening upon the road to Glim, his spirit revived.
At the same moment as Pim, but at a different exit and time of day, Bim saw Mr Love throw himself face down upon the sand in despair.
Pim found an exit to the archive, one which gave on to a familiar vista, Mr. Love running naked but inaudible in the distance.
The sun rose. Mr. Love stripped himself naked and walked blindly towards the horizon, as he was wont to do during spells of self-abasement.
While idly scanning bookstacks in the archive Pim came upon a volume entitled ‘Pim’ which presented an image of Pim on its spine.
Slim snaked around bookstacks to find the librarian shelving F to J of a 1947 Encyclopedia Britannica, and snatched some of his pizza.
The movie ended. Under last and stubborn and predawn stars Mr. Love was seen to arise and go. On foot. (He had many more Buicks at home.)
