Laughing at the lunatics in Bedlam
Laughing at the lunatics in Bedlam
The bar is open. Finally a drip on which to quench my thirst.
this is a re-write of an earlier story called representation.
The door bell rang.
Ryan came inside, smiling at seeing Danielle. His life had gained colour after his marriage and the birth of his child.
He was now finally home after a hard day’s work.
After twenty years up to here with diamorphine, methadone, the like ...
Early manhood is a difficult time and Joe was no different from any other young man setting out in life. When living at home he had felt at times great anguish.
If you wouldn't mind too much ... I'll be out of here
The heat melted the air above the pool, the desert beyond unresolved, a smear of browns and golds, the sky a big, stupid blue.
Nothing new: Just re-posted as one piece, with an addendum, for anyone who may be interested.
'He still has bits of cheese and onion crisps in his mouth; my first kiss.'
Further development of a piece begun some time ago - start has been posted before.
That what’s-her-name and what’s-her-nipples
makes my bobby’s helmet dribble
gallons of salami-slime,
of feller-fat, of bollock-brine,
‘Here have a look at this Dick,’says retired porn magnate Oscar one day by the pool. ‘Tell me what you think.’
The story of one remarkable lady.
Return of the unredeemed.
He pulled out his hand to reveal a waxy red appendage that no longer looked his own. The blood had congealed around knuckles and had created a network map on his palms.