At Penn Beacon market last weekend, I bought a dozen National Geographic magazines (dated some four decades ago, but for one with a beautiful African savanna on the cover, that was from April 1982; the paper of which was considerably thinner) from a man who, as well as cheap collections of periodicals – such as … Continue reading The Dream Job.
He made his way the length of Sumner Road. Cigarette to his bottom lip, constant, pushing an open, dull-metal cart pendanted with scrap trophies; a hubcap, a strappy shoe, a tiny transistor radio. Holstered at its side was a wide shovel, a mean looking yard broom, an oversized pan, a wire brush. From the front … Continue reading The Windmill Arms.
Scarce of traffic, vehicular or pedestrian, Sumner Road stretches east-west across the early evening dereliction that was once lined with kempt and pretty red bricked terraces and local businesses, but now is bordered only by bombed-out and mostly abandoned buildings resembling broken teeth. Some are so destroyed that the backyards, wild with nettles, can … Continue reading Sumner Road.
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.
The women were the last to leave. Monica, Luella, Jodie, Siobhan. Lottie and Tin Ribs. They left the simple room in ones and twos, led by the redhead with wet, brown eyes and lace up shoes. She held her tiny chin an inch inclined. She appeared to him no older than when they had last … Continue reading Cold Hands.
The chilled yellow interior of the fridge in the one bulb backroom of the frozen pet food shop made him wince. Nick sniffed the milk. He sluiced the tea ringed mugs under the cold tap, wiping the rims with a thumbed and fingered tea towel. The Chelsea one with its chipped lip and sepia rings. … Continue reading Fleet Circles.
