It's been a long time, W. says on the phone. It's been to...

It's been a long time, W. says on the phone. It's been too long. He just wanted to say he hasn't forgotten me. He's just so busy. He's never been this busy. He'd retire, if he could. We'd all retire, if we could. Imagine it! A life in retirement ...!

What of our friends - has he heard of them? He hasn't heard from anyone, W. says. He hasn't spoken to anyone, or gone anywhere. He hasn't got time. He's like me - in infinite purdah.

What about the arts? What has he seen or heard of note? He has no time for the arts, W. says. He's too numb for the arts.

I tell him about the apocalyptic economics programmes I've been watching. Things are bad! Very bad! The next crash ...

When is the next crash?, W. asks.

In 1998, Wall Street bailed out a hedge fund, I say. In 2008, the central banks bailed out Wall Street. Well, in 2018, the IMF will have to bail out the central banks ...

Will there be cannibalism?, W. asks.

There could be hyperinflation. There could be a run on the banks. We have to buy gold! It's the only thing that's safe!

He likes my economic turn, W. says. - 'Is that your new line of flight: economics?'

Anyway, he's going to send me the next part of his Gottesbuch, his God book, W. says. - 'You'll like it'. It's handwritten, he says. It's written entirely in propositions, like Spinoza. He'll send me a PDF.

I make enthusiastic noises.

'And it's in different colours', W. says.

More enthusiastic noises.

'I knew you'd like that', W. says.