Tag Archives: Fucking

163. Fiesta.

Posted on October 2, 2015 by generallucifer

Standing at the side of the ring road for years and years, waiting for buses that are late, on time, that never come. Huddled in a freezing bus shelter or standing in the sun, standing in the dark, standing in … Continue reading →

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157. Captain Blood

Posted on August 7, 2015 by generallucifer

“OH JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” I sat bolt upright in a bed I didn’t know, in a room I’d never seen before. A digital alarm clock by the side of the bed told me it was 8.49am and it was a … Continue reading →

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149. Underhand Lob

Posted on April 24, 2015 by generallucifer

Here he comes, rocking a straw sombrero and a pair of knock-off Ray Bans, pulling a pallet of paper that defies gravity at every corner, his demeanor defiant, shouting ‘pal’ and ‘mate’ and ‘cunt’ at everyone with the same split-melon … Continue reading →

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145. Cold Snap

Posted on March 6, 2015 by generallucifer

“It’s cold out there.” “Mmff.” “Proper parky, it is. You want to get wrapped up if you’re on the bike.” “Mmm Mmff.” “Icy too. Black ice, the worst kind. You can’t see it, you see. Nasty stuff, black ice.” “Fffmm … Continue reading →

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144. The Grind

Posted on February 27, 2015 by generallucifer

I’m looking at the dust streaked screen of a primitive computer, half listening to Soulless Boss. “Press that. No, not that. That. Yes. Now click there there and there. No not there, THERE, for fuck’s sake! Select the paper. No, … Continue reading →

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141. Stepping Out

Posted on January 23, 2015 by generallucifer

“I’m knocking.” Giz another card, lad.” “Here you go, Stan.” “Fuck. I’m knocking too.” “I’m not. What about that lot?” “Bastard.” The slap of dog-eared playing cards and the slurp of tea. The soft hiss of a Calor gas heater. … Continue reading →

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132. Clock Springs

Posted on October 3, 2014 by generallucifer

Hey Dave. What you doing? Drawing. Yeah? I didn’t know you could draw. There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Luci. I’m a man of many talents. I have no doubt about that whatsoever. You draw a lot? Yeah, … Continue reading →

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131 Pump Friction

Posted on September 26, 2014 by generallucifer

Monday morning, gawping through black double glazing into a dimly lit car park filled with a mix of second hand and third hand cars that men can just about afford and new cars they can’t afford but they drive them … Continue reading →

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125. Fucking Amazing Dave

Posted on July 11, 2014 by generallucifer

They aren’t all cunts. Obviously a lot of them are, but not all of them. I mean, even some of the workmates who I like are total cunts; racists, misogynists, badger baiters, thieves. It’s odd that I still think of … Continue reading →

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121. Whole Lotta Rosie

Posted on May 9, 2014 by generallucifer

My phone is ringing on Friday in 1995. It’s my mate, Genuflect. He says “Here, Luci, fancy nipping up to Newcastle tonight?” I say “Sounds good. Got anywhere to stay?” He says “Not yet. Fancy trying your hand?” So I … Continue reading →

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