I bike down the regents canal from East London to Macmillan books where before meeting an editor I had to negotiate the RECEPTION AREA!
I spent five minutes pressing the buzzer - five minutes- until the receptionist says through a tanoid “the door is open”. ! So I tried to pull it unsuccessfully. The tanoid again “push!”. I push enter the building. The poet has entered the publishers! The door swings back into the face of an oncoming delivery man. Everything’s okay I tell myself.
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