Through Farringdon’s roof he comes, and hops on. Grey-feathered, stern-faced, a downturn in the beak. He stands peacefully until Great Portland Street. The doors cheep. He alights.
Aug 112012
Filed by Subject
Aug 092012
by Cassandra Solon-Parry
He had a bushy, greying moustache and was dressed in black, with a short jacket that resembled a cape, and a bowler hat. But the thing that had made Rachel, and everyone else, stop what they were doing was the extraordinary musical instrument he carried. It appeared to have been tacked together from pieces of violin and at least two trumpets, the horns of which were ranged one on top of the other above the bridge and strings of the violin. [read more…]
Aug 072012
A wet back garden in Leyton on a Monday afternoon; all is still, before the roar. The plants wave their leaves to the wind, and the warmth of 80,000 cheers.
Aug 072012
Oooh, Argos! she squealed, teetering on the seat to press her face to the window as we ground up Kentish Town Road. Unamazed, her mother pointed out it was Poundstretcher.
Aug 042012
The re-appearance of anonymous photos on the web has prompted more strenuous denials from Battersea Dogs’ Home that cutbacks in the heating budget last January caused severe distress amongst some of the more short-haired residents. [read more…]
Aug 022012
Someone told me Patrick Stewart often gets the tube at Bermondsey; I picture him softly mouthing shwoosh when the platform-edge doors open… just secretly, to himself…
Jul 312012
by Matt Haynes
They smile for photos;
Their shoulder-mounted rifles
Brush the toddler’s hair. [read more…]
Jul 282012
Visitors from other parts of the Milky Way who wish to sample some of the more “off-beat” attractions of the Orion–Cygnus Spiral Arm might like to note that the British Interplanetary Society at Vauxhall stocks a wide range of maps and guides to the local area. [read more…]
Jul 252012
The Song of the Olympic Binman
by Matt Haynes
I am a binman for the council
And I walk the back roads,
Searchin’ in the dark for another bag to load.
I hear we mustn’t use our bin lifts,
I hear you will not like their whine,
And the SE10 binman must be gone by nine. [read more…]
Jul 232012
by Des Garrahan
There was a time I was scathingly scornful of suburbia. Growing up in Lewisham, I couldn’t really see the point of it. Since then, I’ve moved steadily through the zones, both north and south of the river, heading for the periphery. These days, I’m thoroughly and happily ensconced deep in zone 6. And here, in Kingston upon Thames, with apologies to the Pet Shop Boys, you’re more likely to walk with the foxes than run with the dogs at night. [read more…]