… on her way through Newington Gardens that morning, Fiona suddenly realised that life on Earth would never be the same again [read more…]
Mar 072012
South East
Mar 052012
“Sorry to bother you,” he says, wandering across, “but I need 73p for the train.” He’s vague, oddly distant, but knows precisely what it takes to get out of Peckham.
Mar 022012
… and those long summer evenings in Ladywell Fields.
[see more…]
Feb 282012
“Simon Groom, Goldie and the Mayor of Greenwich leave their hand and paw prints in Woolwich town centre.” [read more…]
Feb 262012
as heard by Matt Haynes
Number 100 to… Shadwell. The next stop is… Pocock Street – oh, look, I really can’t be doing with all this. If you didn’t know what route I was or where I was going, why would you have got on? I mean, I’m contractually obliged to spout all this guff, but frankly it just insults us both. [read more…]
Feb 232012
by Cassandra Solon-Parry
The man who gets on the bus after me is wearing the same outfit I am: charcoal denims, black leather jacket, white pumps. We acknowledge this then look away. Later, when the person sat between us leaves, we glance up and find ourselves looking at each other again. I’m reading a music magazine. He’s listening to music through a shiny red iPod. I make a point of not smiling and then I look out the window. [read more…]
Feb 182012
by Simon Sylvester
So I pick him up from the Camberwell depot, depot, and he’s there with his flat cap and his dreads and his fingerless gloves, leather for better grip, see, mouthing off with all that niggatalk, but I don’t dig his vibe. Not at all, man. I reckon he tries too hard. I reckon he be days away from being busted. [read more…]
Feb 062012
by Sabrina Mahfouz
I think we might argue more
if you move to North London –
it’s just, y’know, so far.
[read more…]
Jan 312012
Lewisham Council finally admits it doesn’t know where anything is. [see more…]
Jan 282012
by Jude Rogers
Almost eight years ago, I dared to go to the end of the line. I was a new girl in Dalston’s Ridley Road, and the North London Line that lay at the end of the market, past the huge snails, the hung chicken heads and the snowywhite webs of tripe, kept daring me to go east for pleasure, rather than head west for work. So one day I turned right instead of left, and went to North Woolwich. [read more…]