By the sea. Some place by the sea. A lighthouse and a cigarette and the memory of a kiss that tastes of liquorice. Fields and more fields. Another cigarette. Toothache and then a store that sells aspirin but not the good kind so the cheap stuff it is, washed down with a cheap can of… Read more

Those bus journeys to towns and villages as quaint and typically English as the music of Nick Drake. Time stands still in such places. The world stops, and the cities you read about in the papers are as distant and unreal as your dreams. Much of my childhood was spent travelling to and from these… Read more

As I enter the indoor market, there’s a stall that once sold an abundance of socks. Just socks. In all shapes and sizes. The old couple who used to run it are now dead and buried in a cemetery on the outskirts of town. Never knew their names, just their wrinkly faces. The stall doesn’t… Read more

The acne on your back and the scars on your knees and the butter on toast you eat while sat on the porch looking out at the sea wishing for something more. The little hairs on your arms and the even littler hairs on your upper lip that stir so invisibly as your heart beats… Read more

Something about a stairwell. Frosted glass. The shops at the top of the road. The old people’s home and the porno mags we once found in the bushes that surrounded it. One day they were filled with earwigs, and the image of a naked woman hasn’t been the same for me ever since. All of… Read more

Lock your fingers in mine, and sniff me. Sniff me the way you sniff the pages of an old book. Desire my warped mind and seek me out even though there’s nothing much to it save for dust and the remnants of dead stars and the memories of old TV shows I used to watch… Read more

Gore videos and alcohol and all the loveless lovers that cling to ghosts while looking up at the sky wishing for something when there’s nothing. Cigarettes and coffee and books on childhood trauma as some fat man gets his arms hacked off with a dull machete that prolongs the agony just fine. With his chubby… Read more

To our left, there are fields of snow where animals shelter far below the visible horizon. The bus we’re on passes untouched lanes. It goes too fast, but the air of danger puts fire in our bellies and reminds us of what it was like to be reckless kids without fear or understanding of what… Read more

Closing my eyes, I smell the beach and the scent of doughnuts and cotton candy and salted chips which seagulls do their best to lift from the piggy fingers of piggy children who only know what fruit looks like cause they saw it once on TV. Tilting my head to the sky feeling the warmth… Read more

Sainsbury’s café on a Saturday. Cup of tea and a bacon roll hot enough to burn the roof of my mouth. Rain falls outside, but in here, it’s warm and dry, so whatever. Paintings on the wall never change. Nor the items on the menu. But that’s okay because I don’t like change and neither… Read more