Mirror (8): Pale Airman.

8      [photocopy of a snapshot] I cut Lillian's hair every twelfth week, dry it every sixth. It grows. I cut it. I dry it. It has become grey by increments; city pigeon to autumn noon, fading print to cigarette ash. Each accretion of tone slowly highlighting further her pink brittle cheeks, the pools … Continue reading Mirror (8): Pale Airman.

The Quite American.

It is a large, damp, sea-facing attic with a boxy bedroom, boxy bathroom, boxy kitchen. The walls bow beneath my palm. I best not get drunk. I move in and I make a pyramid of my belongings: how did they do that? On a shelf above the bath I find a paperback of Graham Greene's … Continue reading The Quite American.

The Surprising Successes of The Ferraras (part three of three)

41   By the time war broke out the Ferrara’s had a string of parlours stretching from Barton Sands through to Dorchester in the east and Lymington in the west. They employed some 60 locals and the twins would be sure to turn up and chat with the customers and always roll up their sleeves … Continue reading The Surprising Successes of The Ferraras (part three of three)