When I put my hands in Lytton’s armpits and groped, he flicked his tongue at my arm and rolled his eyes. His pits were warmly damp, a clammy route to his core. ...
A good mojito is made with white rum; a great bartender is inconspicuous. It needs to contain something like a Havana 3; he should blend in - like lime into sug...
Dad peers out into the dusk through the locked window. Malignant grey clouds loiter over the hospital. The room smells of school dinners and medicine. He fiddle...
They came from the east in buses; becalmed men, devoid of propulsion. When you knocked one in the train you would see no unfolding in his face, just a trigger, ...
When I cheat, deep down I always want to be caught out, the feeling of guilt consuming my thoughts. Except that this time I’m not doing it to win in rummy or ge...
As we stood outside the Victorian-terraced house, I wondered if you’d already be here; I hoped you wouldn’t. Carol, the estate agent, gave the door a good push ...
It was like watching a flood. Water with nowhere to go: blocked drains, overflowing shelves, limited floor space. The piles of books were growing before their e...
