Tag Archives: Printing

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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193. Could be Worse.

Past a machine and another machine, one spitting letters into a hopper, the other choked with chewed up paper and hissing like a feral beast. Past the gaping lockers filled with tea bags and stained mugs and coffee rings, socks … Continue reading

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191. The Wortley Poisoner

They sit shoulder to shoulder in the Ford Fiesta police car, sipping cold coffee, staring through a windscreen that is slowly turning opaque from the settling dust that blows across the fence from the adjacent quarry. The sergeant grunts, “Turn … 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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171. Supergirl

“You seen her yet, Luci?” “Seen who?” “Fresh meat. Office pool.” “No. Not yet.” Fresh meat. That’s genuinely how the lads describe a new woman starting at work. Call me a coward but I’m not about to start correcting them, … 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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154. Shorn Shank Redemption.

I say, “Penny for your thoughts, Dave?” Fucking Amazing Dave looks thoughtful. He’s not your quintessential deep thinker, to be fair, although he has moments of blinding revelation and insight. Those who live a life less ordinary can often impart … Continue reading

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