Tag Archives: Yorkshire

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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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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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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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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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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180. Raging Gull.

“They’re at it again,” he says. I pretend not to notice. He sighs an Intense Ginger sigh and shakes his Intense Ginger head. “Always them, at it. Fucking animals, the lot of ‘em.” Intense Ginger Bloke is on the internet. … 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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