Monthly Archives: September 2010

89. A Place in the Sun.

The inkjet chatters quietly. I sip my tea and yawn, while surreptitiously tapping away at the novel I’m writing, my ticket out of repro. The printed copy clatters into the out tray, and I rapidly hide the document on screen. … Continue reading

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88. Do you like sausages?

I used to work with a plate maker called Weasel. He was really strange. He lived in Leeds but had a fetish for York, for some reason. He used to have the York papers saved for him at WH Smiths … Continue reading

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87. Faking It.

“Tra la la la lee.” A steaming mug of piss-weak tea, a picture of a cute fat hippo on the side of the mug. On the desk, by the tea, a box. The box is in sections, a box of … Continue reading

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86. Weasily Forgotten.

Stepping into the plate room is like stepping into another dimension, similar to our own but somehow…flawed. There’s a subterranean feel to the place, a dark industrial grotto where nothing is quite right. The faintly acrid odour of developer and … Continue reading

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85. Three’s a Crowd.

Once upon a time, I almost had a threesome. Not the wildest sexual claim, I’ll grant you. It’s like claiming I almost won the lottery, only the numbers I had were different to the ones being shat out by Guinevere … Continue reading

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