by Jane Woodham
We were a typical twosome: Tracey with her big red hair and matching mouth, and me, the sidekick, the quiet blonde one who encouraged from the sideline. We were mates because we liked the same band; it was all we had in common, but it was enough. [read more…]
by Matt Haynes
There is, Doctor Johnson once observed, no more agreeable a place for an Englishman to unexpectedly find himself stuck than within the four sturdy walls of a well-kept public house: “Sir, give a man a pint of strong dark ale, an audience of keen-witted peers, and the promise of a plump and willing wench at the end of the evening, and a simple and profound contentment will be his.” [read more…]
Cab-less and bewildered in Vauxhall’s afternoon heat, the micro-skirted blondes tottering up Newport Street – snazzy holdalls sagging on spaghetti-strapped shoulders – cast a ten-legged silhouette on the railway arches’ dusty brick.
Following the discovery of the body of a baby elephant by railway tracks near Wimbledon Common, police say they’re looking for a short, hirsute, elderly gentleman…
[read more…]
