I can’t stop imagining the Queen’s death, no, not even while I’m driving home or eating dinner
or making love to my wife, even then I keep having disloyal, no treasonous,
thoughts about how the Queen could be bitten by a rabid corgi, or trip over and knock her
head on the throne whilst opening parliament, or Prince Philip might back over her in the
Land Rover, or what if the French whip out a guillotine next time she’s on a state visit,
or she perishes of a surfeit of lampreys like Henry I, and it’s all treason, all of it, I could
be drawn, quartered and hung, or quartered, hung and drawn, I can’t remember in what
order they do it, and whether I get hung or hanged, and what if the Queen comes
to watch my execution and the gallows collapses and crushes her to death, what then?
Announcing the winners and shortlists for the Lucent Dreaming 2022 Prize. Congratulations all!