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.

one haircut today.

  One haircut today, and that was first thing this morning. My winter duffel was too heavy for the hanger - it snapped. Dinner was a discount cottage pie and yesterday's beer. I dried the crockery on the arse of my jeans. The cutlery I dried on my sleeve. The laundry hangs in the August … Continue reading one haircut today.