Dec 072012

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.

Sep 102012
The Beer Goes In The Pub

by Matt Haynes
I picture his right foot tense on the accelerator, desperate to push down and unleash a fuel-injected spray of petrol and testosterone into the cylinder head. It’s so stupid, so futile. If he’d just waited, handbrake on, behind the line, I’d have gone past, and we’d both now be on our way. Instead, I’ve slowed almost to walking pace; I need to be able to throw myself sideways, if he decides he needs to make a point. [read more…]

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