Forgive me for I have sinned.

GLOSSY

‘Can I leave a few of these?’ I said.
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘And would you mind if I left this?’
‘No,’ and he took it.
‘Oh, and I’ve got something for you,’ he said. ‘Now where are they?’
He came out from behind the counter, round the central island of books pausing long enough to say, ‘No, now where are they?’
‘Ah yes,’ he said and bent down reached to the back of the bottom shelf to my right, brought out and gave me a book with a photo of the Wall from Ninetree Hill.
‘He said to give you this,’ in my hands, glossy.

ONE

Texted: thanks for the book, I love it.
...I thought about it a while, was going to say - thanks for the book - but settled on too much...
...they offered me a new phone, she said, I said, they didn’t fucking offer me one...

ALREADY

Texted: I’m going to buy some art on Stokes Croft
‘It’s tomorrow,’ he said after saying hello, ‘didn’t you see the second e-mail? I got the first one wrong.’
‘Er, no.’
I saw the piece I wanted wondered would be as much as the fifty pound already bid for the painting of the Wall, which is a bit rough, not naive...
Already?

FUNNY

He said something was at Container so I went there.
‘You the artist?’ I said to the man serving drinks, mulled wine, orange juice.
‘No,’ he said.
I turned to look at the painting. I heard laughter behind me. Scoff.
‘They’re excellent,’ I said as I walked out the room, wishing I’d said, ‘Funny, is it?’