Empty cages

Empty cages

We carried on getting high and drunk way into Sunday, and Sunday just didn’t matter anymore, and neither did Monday and Tuesday, and what mattered less was what everyone was saying and doing. It didn’t matter that I’d lost my top, or that people had come and gone and that we’d shifted to another room. I didn’t know these people. …

Steamboat

The Day The TV Breaks

I never liked visiting my Dad’s house. It was boring. My toys were at my house, at my Mum’s house. Dad’s house was books and dust, newspapers and daddish things. Watches and tools. Grey and brown and black coats. Mugs to drink pop out of instead of glasses. Dad’s TV didn’t even work anymore. It broke when I was about …