The dogs, marking sand with brief print, ancient scratch-language, lengthen and, boundless, plunge at the cones of surf, smashing them, barking. * A lone figure travails the blown beach. He drags a suitcase. He looks up from his feet and seems surprised to find another living here and, as we pass, I see that the … Continue reading The Empty Benches.
‘The Village Collegiate Xmas Do Will be held this year in the Bingo Hall. Festivities will commence at half two On Black Eye Friday – come dressed for a brawl.’ * The sign on the wall of the faculty was surprising to see to say the least - last year’s do ending so tragically with … Continue reading The Village Collegiate Xmas Do.
December 1st 2005 Croydon Up the stepladder in the stockroom looking for a new bottle of stain remover for H, who is hungover. She has left a tidemark of medium brown tint on her client's forehead giving her a comedic Frankenstein's monster look. In the 80s everyone used ash from the ashtray and a cotton … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island. 25
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