When writing or living, at times a person suffers emotional pain, a deep shearing hurt.
When living the hurt, words can't describe the agony, but when writing about the pain, the writer must find words.
Whereas here we've got layer upon layer upon layer, over 900,000 years of pre-history.
And that allows us to ask some really complicated questions.
Arrange to go to the pictures: Get a text 20 minutes before. She throws popcorn at me with a smile that reveals dimples. Her room is a pigsty: dirty bras hang from open drawers and there's plates on the floor. Sorry about the mess, she replies, then asks why my socks say Tuesday when it's Saturday. The game is Arsenal versus Bolton and Motty is explaining that Gretar Steinsson has gone down after a challenge from Abou Diaby. As the net ripples, my date - out of nowhere - pushes me away and asks me to leave. But you're my one, I think to myself before looking down at those Tuesday socks covering my good foot and my bad. Says we should have just gone out as friends – that she felt pressured into being a 'mega whore' because it was a date.