No Glass.

“I don’t like it.” No one hears him. No one sees him. He used to think they were ignoring him, but they're really not. He is concealed. He stands within the stinking flock garden among the yellowed roses depicted on the wallpaper of the Eight Kings' public bar. Grinner pokes his nose beyond the faux … Continue reading No Glass.

Starlight Conversation.

They sat on the doorstep at the back of the flats every evening filling the jam jar ashtray and trading hushed nothings. Autumn, she sat with her knees drawn and clasped. She stretched her legs long before her, silk pouring from them, on June evenings such as this one. They had been joined by another … Continue reading Starlight Conversation.

perhaps this is what they call jazz?

they sat in the low light blue smoke of the room and, after a while, running out of things to say, he picked up a guitar and started to strum some rudimentary chords, plucking triads and tripping harmonics and, believing he was, of a sudden, some old blues man, he began to throw in some … Continue reading perhaps this is what they call jazz?

New Brighton

New Brighton - where the sun shines, even when it rains. As he leaves the shadow of the station, Knott is bathed in a sense of being on holiday, of being abroad, of being. The sun shines on New Brighton. He puts on the green shades. The sky is bigger here; the sea birds, unlike … Continue reading New Brighton

After work.

cassettes: you're a big girl now. <p class="has-drop-cap has-normal-font-size" style="line-height:1.3" value="<amp-fit-text layout="fixed-height" min-font-size="6" max-font-size="72" height="80">At some point, between pocketing the takings, locking the shop, walking the length of Station Street, bent into the breeze and shoeing wet leaves, he decides to see if she'd like a drink. And there she is, Hannah in the white … Continue reading After work.