Tag Archives: North

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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192. Squiggles.

I’m staring out of the window, looking at the trees. Whoever designed the factory all those years ago decided that trees would soften the impact of this great, rumbling, shuddering blot on the landscape, so we have trees. I’ll admit … Continue reading

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182. Androgyne

Sitting in the pub on a Saturday afternoon. I’ve got a pint on the table in front of me, the first pint of the day. I remember that Ian Fleming once wrote how James Bond’s favourite drink of the day … Continue reading

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163. Fiesta.

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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156. The hour of the Moth.

It is the hour of the Moth. I lie on my bed in the half darkness, the perpetual twilight of streetlight and candlelight, listening to night sounds. The torpid air listlessly shifts the limbs of monstrous poplars and sycamores outside … Continue reading

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151. Deep Blue

Pushing past the punch-clock huddle of the rounded shoulders of the long defeated, heading to a parking lot filled with cars too close to death or too close to the credit limit. Big lungfuls of air, free air, air on … Continue reading

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149. Underhand Lob

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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