On a brisk Sunday morning a gentleman in a long velvet morning coat and top hat rides a tiny pink-painted bicycle through the gutter on Lower Clapton Road.
Regular features
At Clapham North he pulls a knob of root ginger from his bag and, with eyes cast down, rubs its surface tenderly; perhaps, I think, it’s his lucky magic ginger.
Urban Intervention No. 34
Wait until London Zoo has just shut, then stand outside the main entrance dressed as a bear, rattling the gate and tapping an imaginary wristwatch. To make it more convincing, carry an HMV bag in one paw.
London Transport Apologises No. 1
Due to earlier passenger action, the Bakerloo Line has been suspended from the Victoria Line at Oxford Circus, and is now swinging gently from side to side. [read more…]
Outside the Crown next morning, a wreath shaped like a giant emulsion brush stands propped against the recycling bin; as the breeze rises, wet white petals drip onto the pavement.
by Matt Haynes
I think we can all tell by the way he uses his walk that Neptune is… well, a bit of an old tart, frankly, especially after a dose of Saturday Night Sea Fever has led him to try busting a few salty moves at the local Palais de Danse. Not for him, though, Travolta’s white suit and pointy collars – instead, just some kind of disco cape, the sort of thing you might toss on hastily should the doorbell ring as you were nakedly honing your hustle at home. [read more…]
Beside the track at Richmond, a large stuffed bear slumps against the wall and stares at the gravel. “Mister Bear” says the aerosol scrawl, an arrow pointing at his head.
“Sorry, mate,” says the man on the footbridge, turning aside to let me cycle past. “Cheers,” I reply. He nods, tight-lipped, then continues urinating onto the Blackwall Tunnel Southern Approach.
As the train brings her closer to him, she re-reads his texted description but finds herself distracted by just how many houses in Purley have trampolines in their back gardens.
by Matt Haynes
Yes, his toga may be worn rather too casually off the shoulder, and reveal an unnecessary amount of nipple for daytime discourse in the forum, but – that’s Romans for you! Ah, but he’s NOT a Roman. He’s William Huskisson MP; who, having already cheated death once – when a horse fell on him during his honeymoon – later found fame as the world’s first railway fatality, after being hit by Stephenson’s Rocket just outside Newton-le-Willows. [read more…]