What he does very well is register the pressure exerted by other people, their sweaty faces pressed against the glass of your self. How much you want to avoid other people, how unpleasant the presence of other people is. How you flinch and sink when an acquaintance spots you in the street, Hullo There! How a group of people box you in and poke you with sticks,
the cramped funeral carriage, thigh to thigh, all the insensitive e things they say, how they deliberately and inadvertently chafe against your sensibilities, too coarse-grained, too clumsy, too cruel.
How they talk too much, in the newspaper office, make too much of their own opinions, stale wind of their own opinions, bloviating, horrible old middle aged men parading their opinions, trialling polished periods, their command of the facts.
Recoiling from the mess of them, eating, animals at the trough, elbows out, how horrible it is to see it, the warmth of them all together like that, belching, sleeve swiped over mouth
How insinuating and devious they are, prying into the hidden corners of your self, probing for weakness, weaselly, wanting to know just what they can get away with, what angle they can work on you, exactly where your soft spots are
Overbearing people, how they suffocate you, big plump rumps planted square on your face, blocking your mouth and nostrils,stately, plump, establishing a tyranny of jovial bumptious hail fellow well met bit back slap enjoying watching you cringe, shrink into yourself, knowing, ha, I've got you now