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
Speedy Ange laughs. Don’t know ya up from ya down, do ya. I'm all over the place. They’re cooking up hot knives in the kitchenette; Tammy and Speedy Ange. I’m failing to tune a guitar in the other room. Bare boards and candles and incense. Ash on china. I’m on my back, Tammy’s sunburst Jaguar … Continue reading The Crow Court.
'An easy to moderate climb', the guidebook promises. But, halfway up Catbells' spine, she turns to me and says, "I cannot carry on." * We had followed in footprints of dead Roman legions. I'd seen her walk on her hands on Tynemouth beaches. But she cannot carry on. We measured maps by millimetres, drank goats' … Continue reading An Easy To Moderate Climb.
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