At this moment, even our wisecracking protagonist, Benedict, claims he is “so attired in wonder” that his words fail him. What a curious and lovely turn of phrase, what an odd point in the proceedings to invoke wonder.

The phrase burrowed into my imagination. It travelled with me as I began a PhD that attempted to find wonder in quotidian acts of queer dissent. It stayed with me as I sifted for wonder in increasingly dreary pandemic walks. And now here it is, quite literally burrowed into my skin.