Jeremy Calling

I am rushing back to meet my fiancé. It is 2009 and Bloomsbury is dark. I am excited by the prospect of seeing her for I know that the kisses will soon go astray and that we’ll fall out of love. But in this perfect moment I adore her. My phone rings. It is Jeremy Corbyn.

Jeremy and Sunderland

I was sitting on one of the stools in my local bookies with Jeremy Corbyn. The place was entirely deserted but there was a horse race playing on all the tvs. We paid it no mind and spent our time together discussing the merits of including Sunderland players in our fantasy football teams.

Jeremy Was My Dad

Corbyn was my dad. He had split from my mum and the two of them ran rival pubs in a dank back street. His was called Hamlyns, I believe. I had argued with my mum and gone back to stay in the room above Corbyn's pub which I'd been in before- it was very dank and squalid. However when I got back there were thousands of young people in colourful clothes there and they were holding a violent elaborate orgy. Corbyn was in the midst of them, with his raggy dressing gown flapping open, exposing a liver spotted chest. He seemed very lost and frail.

Jeremy in a Remote Field

I was in conversation with his closest advisers, and they were expressing consternation about one of his night time habits. I wondered what could be so bad. They took me to remote field where car headlights were glaring into the darkness. Jeremy was watching a couple fuck on the bonnet of his car. This was his dark side. He liked dogging.

Jeremy in Death Valley

I was arguing with Corbyn and John McDonnell about the need to go on the offensive against the Blairites with radical politics. Not really that exciting a dream, but while we started off in an ordinary room, by the end we were in the desert, maybe Death Valley. We hadn't actually moved, though.

Jeremy Drinking Tea

I am working in a cafe. Jeremy Corbyn is drinking tea and reading a newspaper. He goes out to make a phone call, and I make an excuse to go out, too. He begins to walks back in, his wife alongside him.
I say “hello Jeremy!"
He says, “Hello" and smiles, though he does not know me.
He is about to go through the door behind me, my moment is passing, and I pluck up the courage to shout: “I LOVE YOU JEREMY". I don't know if he hears me.