Oh this takes me back to the good ol’days.

When a dime of coke still cost a 20 and pay phones were still a quarter.

When we’d all hang out at Metro, which was still called Dominion, eating no-name Oreos because we’d spent all our money on blow.

It was the late 90′s…

tbc

As you walk down the street you can’t help but think of  the old days when you wished with ever step that death would greet you in the next. But today, you can think only of the fact that you have a hole in you shirt. It wasn’t even a big one and with your arm down at your side, it couldn’t even be seen…

An excerpt of a new short story I am writing.

It was a chance meeting on the street, an inescapable occurrence in the city. We’d last spoke only days ago, one of our marathon phone chats, but you looked at me as if we’d never met —newly acquainted friendly strangers.

Excerpt from my short story ‘Vinyl’

The dirt ground morphed into black and white linoleum as he opened the door. A bell clanged above his head sounding sick and dried up; just like the landscape.

From the outside the diner had looked dried up too, but inside it was full of colour and life. A waitress was flitting around in a red apron and a smile while the patrons, truckers mostly, eyed her with a harmless hunger; her antics a welcome break from the desert that stretched away from the road in all directions.