Out there in the bay tonight, captured in a globe of light, hand over hand over hand, I imagine, her dredging, with beads of perspiration dripping, while I can only try to coax a tune from the radio static.
Waves.
Category: creative writing
Piccolo Knives.
When I saw you last, talking too fast, with your Gauloises & your Cola - well, it just makes you look older to me. It was dark in there, yes, I know. But I swear it said Bay City Rollers on that scarf wrapped round your neck & shoulders. Were you feeling cold, dear? … Continue reading Piccolo Knives.
The Ancient Skate Punk.
The young lounge the hours on the benches of the dead: their carefully careless hair skew-wiffs caps. Scratched and battered skateboards slung at their outstretched sneakers. Energy drinks clutched in one hand, handset in the other. Sickly, sticky-blue smiles on insect faces. You rarely see anyone riding a board these days. The older guys, sure. … Continue reading The Ancient Skate Punk.
nickreeves 