There are angels in this city's atmosphere. We're just waiting for our cheques to clear. They're comedians without the fear. In Liverpool. There are...
Poor little Jack Door. Keen eyes, like a magpie targeting gleaming precious things. Used to play on the school roof firing pebbles and glass down to...
The ambulance. red lights pour like syrup over our street. Sirens. The vehicle of death propulsion Is streaking past. The Doppler Effect holds me in...