Tag Archives: Lucifer

200. Cold Cuts

Skittering a little over the chipped concrete. Slivers of sleet and snow slipping from cuff and collar, the freezing metal of my bicycle stem numbing already cold fingers. Something chilly and wet worms it’s way down the back of my … Continue reading

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194. The Gear Hunter

It is midday and I want a cigarette. I don’t smoke cigarettes. I might have mentioned it before, how I sometimes crave things I’ve not had in a long time, things like Walker’s Spicy Tomato flavour Snaps, Ice Pops, anal … Continue reading

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189. Dog.

I am lying in the half light of an Autumn Sunday morning, still half submerged in the last weak waves of sleep that are only just beginning to recede, exposing the flotsam and jetsam of a new day for my … Continue reading

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186. Candyman.

The shadows thrown by the shiny cars that nobody owns begin to lengthen in the car park and the long seconds tick by, each second becoming, like the shadows, longer and longer, as the people in the office fidget and … Continue reading

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174. Desert Island Dicks

“There’s an awful lot of shite on the telly these days, Luci. An awful lot of shite.” Fucking Amazing Dave carefully hauls the tea-sodden chocolate Digestive from his mug and skillfully flops it into his mouth. His eyes roll in … Continue reading

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160. The Nureyev of the NCP

“You still typin’, Luci?” “What the fuck do you mean, Scorcher?” “Well, every time I come in ‘ere you’re either typin’ or shovin’ that mouse about.” “It’s my job, Scorcher. It’s what I’m paid to do. Sit on my arse … Continue reading

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157. Captain Blood

“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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