The garden was a riot of colours and forms and shapes. At the heart of it was my secret jungle house. Peter and i journeyed to The Land of the Other Side. But as to whether we got there my chronicle of memory does not extend. Perhaps i was overtaken by one of my fits of rage when, my belly a pit of hissing serpents and my head illumined into dreadful clarity of purpose, amidst the flashing lightning and crashing thunder I would throw the world and all its disgusting, revolting inh...