How to outdo the Virgin spaceship

Footsteps on the driveway, followed by a splat. Another piece of garbage has landed on the mat. Promotional material, to put it another way, Unwanted and unsolicited. What will it be today? Another brand new takeaway, the holiday of my dreams, Miracle cures for baldness, the latest get rich quick schemes. It will be none of these things — I know with certainty; Experience has taught me exactly what it will be. A hollow laugh when my expectation proves to be the truth, An advert for Virgin Broadband, four-hundredand-seventy-two. Of course that’s just an estimate, it’s not the exact amount — Merely a ballpark figure, since I started to count. You’ve got to admire their persistence; their stamina’s immense.

My total lack of interest makes no difference. I’ve tried ‘return to sender’ and ‘not at this address’ You’d think that this would do the trick, but no, they never rest. For some reason they can’t believe, they just don’t understand Why I wouldn’t want all those channels, and superfast broadband. But there are so many books I haven’t read, and I’m a dead slow reader, too,

I still haven’t finished Moby Dick — and I started in ’92. Hundreds of extra channels would be hazardous to my health With my weakness for fascination, I’d never do anything else. So get that Richard Branson, call him on the phone, Enough of this harassment — tell him to leave me alone. Actually, hang on a minute, let’s try a different tack. I’ll bundle it all together and make a giant stack. A tower of junk that will become my gateway to the stars. Once I’ve got planning permission, I’ll be on my way to Mars. The air up there is rather thin, it’s bound to make me sick. But with all that peace and quiet, I might finish Moby Dick. Inching into outer space, on a makeshift ziggurat, I’ll get there before he does. I’m pretty sure of that.