the stokes croftian

2010-07-30T16:12:00.002+01:00

TAKE FIVE

I took five at Take Five.
They said where and when the meeting would be and I was there, then, and couldn’t find it, like it’s my fault the jeans don’t fit.
‘Are you here for the meeting?’ I asked a man’d been talking to a woman about where it might be.
He looked at me as if I’d offered him a blow job and got it horribly wrong. ‘No,’ he said, shook his head, backed off, joined the woman and they walked out the Canteen together.
I looked out from the steps of Hamilton House, there was no one form last time we’d met that I could see so I went next door to Take Five and took five with a coffee.
‘I’ll bring it out to you,’ he said, the man behind the counter serving when I said after paying I’d be outside. ‘In a mug,’ he said.
‘Thanks,’ I said waving before taking the front door out to a table and a seat from where I could see two women sat talking outside Zazu’s.
What do they think when they see me here? Anything? Nothing at all? Not even, ‘There’s a lonely man.’

2010-07-24T01:31:00.001+01:00

IN

You'll love this one...

2010-07-17T13:13:00.001+01:00

A HINGED DOOR

‘What did you say?’ he said.
‘It was mostly what I didn’t say,’ I said.
‘That all?’
‘Well no,’ I said. ‘Closing the front door behind me.’
‘What happened?’
‘I took some rubbish out to the bin and she was in her front garden or yard as it is more like,’ I said.
‘What was she doing?’ he said.
‘Sweeping, she had a broom.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘and she said something about the way the street looked and I said, “Lovely.”’
‘“Lovely?”’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘“Lovely.”’
‘That it?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I said, “Lovely,” then went back inside but not before a very awkward silence where I could’ve said something.’
‘Why didn’t you say something?’
‘No words came to me to speak,’ I said. ‘It was like for moment not having any thoughts then your head fills with a scream at the sudden realisation and terror at the emptiness. I couldn’t bear it.’
‘So you went back in the house?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘And it one of those times when you know that what you’re doing is significant as you’re doing it.’ - a pause as I recall the moment, oh yes, there it is – ‘I knew that as I was closing the door behind me something significant was happening because I was closing the door behind me.’
‘You mean…?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘On the seed of a future the flower of which I, nor anyone else, would ever know.’
‘A future unhinged,’ he said. ‘By the closing of a hinged door.’

2010-06-15T10:07:00.000+01:00

COMPANY

- I find out what he's doing by looking online when I get an e-mail saying there's a message for me;
- we have brief encounters when we walk out the door at the same time or one of us is already out there, a conversation develops if I don't run from a friendly, 'Hello;'
- she mocks me because I am a man; I wonder what she might be like to sleep with; her lips are thin but she has a sharp turn of phrase that excites me;
- no matter how hard I try, walking the route three times despite the obvious dangers as darkness descends, I cannot find the tandem he lent me;
- 'Do you want a poke?' he said coming up behind me in the alley way ran alongside the back garden of the cafe whose owner had propositioned me only minutes previous. 'No,' I said, kicking at him. 'But he might,' pointing at the cafe owner who was watching from his garden the scene unfold;
- what I am, except to a few people, is irrelevant, making myself so through unrestrained comments and behaviour at inappropriate times and wrong places; a little containment would go a long way but it escapes me at moments that dilute impact and weaken the desire for my company.

2010-06-11T11:55:00.002+01:00

INHERITANCE

I got out the car, closed the door behind me. To my left and on the far corner by the newspaper seller who appeared to be shouting at her, was my mother. She waved at me and. I turned my back to her and walked a few steps before stopping turning round to face her where she now stood not far from me and on the same side.
‘Do you want to see me?’ I said.
‘No,’ she said and left.
I felt sad that she’d just done to me what I’d done to her all these years, ‘But I’m the child,’ still running through my mind.
Later we met, had coffee and it was quiet between us until I said, ‘It hurt when you said you didn’t want to see me.’
‘We're very much alike, we are,’ she said. ‘We find it hard to forgive and move out from behind our defences because we know how devastated we can be when outside.’
‘I don’t like being like you,’ I said.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘it’s part of your inheritance.’

2010-06-02T21:32:00.009+01:00

IT HAPPENS

He was sitting on the low wall of the further of the two flowerbeds in front of the entrance to the block as I came back from Broadmead. He waved, I nodded.
He followed me in. I behaved like he hadn't not sure he lived here and didn't want to ask. He stood behind me as I stared at the tiles to the left of the lift.
'Hello,' I said.
'How long you lived here?' he said.
'Ten years,' I said. 'You?'
'Six months.'
'You like it?'
'I don't know,' he said. 'I lived in supported housing before so it's different from that.'
'A bit more challenging, I imagine?'
'Yet, having to cook for myself and pay all the bills.'
I got in the lift and pressed for my floor, wondered what he'd do. By the time the door'd closed and the lift was on the way up he hadn't pressed a button.
'Might he come up with me see, where I live,' I thought...
...he pressed...
'I still get help,' he said. 'Not as much though.'
'Independent living,' I said.
'I used to do it alright,' he said. 'I was a plumber but, you know...'
...a moment...
'Yes,' I said, 'it happens.'

2010-06-01T11:35:00.008+01:00

IT'S NOT UNUSUAL

'Oh,' she said,' 'hello.'
'Hello,' I said.
I'd seen the back of a white coat disappear into the entrance of the flats on my way back from Kino and wondered who it might be going in, if I'd want to share a lift with them.
'Bit cooler today,' she said.
We'd always said hello but since our laundry times overlap we pass the time of day, say 'Goodness,' after the caretaker comes in has a moan.
'My daughter,' she said, 'phoned from Greece last week said it was forty-two degrees...'
'That's hot,' I said.
'I said it was sunny here but she got back yesterday and said she started shivering as soon as she got off the plane.'
'After forty-two degrees I can imagine,' I said. 'Talking of heat, is the dryer working properly,' pointing.
She got up from the bench and walked to the left hand dryer, put her hand on the glass.
'It's okay now,' she said, 'but I had to press the lighter switch earlier.'
'How many times has it broken down?' I said.
'I don't know,' she said, 'but it's not unusual.'

2010-05-28T13:17:00.004+01:00

FEEDING THE MONKEY

'Have you told him yet?' she said as we sat drinking coffee.
'No,' I said. 'I wanted to tell her and you before anyone else.'
The day after I got a text saying, 'Congratulations, well done, Xxx.'
I texted back, 'I feel strangely unmoved, thought there'd be doors opening in my mind but haven't detected anything like thus far'
Boots walked past alone. He used to walk around a step or so behind a woman could have been his twin. She had long dyed black hair, like him, and like him, wore plenty of eye liner. But I've not seen them together since I moved in here.
He had a bad accident, head injury affecting his speech so when our conversations would include me saying, 'Sorry?' when I hadn't understood what he said. A lot of what he said was ideas that other people or groups of people should do and I'd say, 'Why don't you do that?' and he'd say, 'I might,' but I don't think he ever did.
Since the laundry time change I've not seen him to talk to and unlike with Godmother I don't miss the contact. Thing is I can't trust him not to be telling someone else what I say as he tells me what others have said. Boots was an ally of Plover and would pass on information about him.
'He put that poster up,' he told me when I asked, pretty sure who it was anyway, the language and target of attack.
Once in a meeting in the flats Plover started a rant, was eventually asked to leave then escorted from the room still shouting, jabbing his finger at me as I watched curious about the condition of his internal world. If I saw him in the lift I'd grunt, 'Uuhh,' and he'd turn his back to me. He was quite frightening really because he had a history of violence taking a sword to his son who said, 'He's a wanker.' I wouldn't like the D to say that about me, not behind my back, she has a healthy contempt.
I'm someone easy to talk to, available for gossip, never revealing sources, expedient in distribution. 'Well I heard...' is a way I'll begin an exchange, and I mean exchange, I don't give for nothing, I expect something in immediate return or I'm clear I'm planning for the future and feeding the monkey.

2010-05-25T18:39:00.001+01:00

I DON'T MISS BOOTS

Now I've changed my laundry time I don't see her very often, maybe in town, on the way or way back, But not to talk to.
The caretaking team was picking up litter in front of Frances House as Godmother walked back from Stokes Croft me taking my time to not catch her up, overtake.
She stopped and said, 'Glad to see you earning your money.'
'What you talking about?' said CT. 'I'm always earning my money,' sounded offended, 'I was doing the lifts this morning,' smile on his face.
I thought she might walk on but even by the lift down from Thirteen, I'd got in, and the door closed behind me, she hadn't come into the block.
She might've said to CT and the team, 'You want to be careful, do your job, or I'll get my boys over, give you a hand, and I don't mean helping.'
She threatened to set her boys on a man lived in one of the flats a few floors below her had been harassing a woman lived opposite told Godmother now telling me. 'I said to him, “If you keep on I'll ask my boys to have a word,” I think he heard me,' she said, 'she's not said anything more about it.'
Catching up the way I like on inter-flat gossip: who's getting raided/abused/shagged/moving in or out, how she is, I miss her in the laundry...
but I don't miss Boots.

2010-05-23T23:33:00.001+01:00

A MISSED OPPORTUNITY

'Was I rude to him?' I said.
We were sat on the sofa in the silent disco just above North Road about half eleven the night of the first Stokes Croft street festival. This was before the incident had occurred I was to ask her about later. We made up the dialogue to the silent film showing: a love scene, might have been, it was the way we told it.
She walked into the man wheeling the bike as we left and headed to get chips before going back to the flat for a coffee.
On Jamaica Street he was standing in the doorway of the shop next to the studios opposite the back entrance to the massage parlour. Three other men were there and he was talking to one of them as we passed.
'Hello,' he said, 'you having a good evening?'
'Hello,' I said, 'yes. How about you?'
'Yes,' he said.
We walked just a little further stopping to look in the window of the shop at the small screen showing a gig from the inside.
'Where's that?' she said.
'The Canteen, I think.'
'Is it live?'
'I don't know,' I said.
We turned round together to see if what was on the screen was what was happening in the Canteen we could see from where we stood.
'No,' I said, 'it isn't.'
'Look, fire jugglers,' she said.
'Are they inside or out?'
'Out,' she said, 'It's a reflection.'
we watched a few minutes then walked on stepping round a group of young drinkers and up by the Bell people sat on the pavement to the entrance to the alleyway.
As I lay in bed the early hours of the morning I thought how I hadn't had a conversation about the evening with him and how it might not have been rude but that it was a missed opportunity.

2010-05-21T17:54:00.004+01:00

MILES TO GO

The new tenant lives the same floor as the laundry, before he moved in I came out the lift and there was, turned out I heard later, the dead body of a man by the door of what is now the new tenant's flat.
The flat is for junkies, that's all I've known live there.
The previous tenant woke one morning next to his girlfriend'd died during the night, the police investigated but no charges were brought, three months later the tenant died of liver failure when the cancer he knew would kill him eventually did. The Dead Sofas practiced in his front room, I couldn't hear them from my flat but he told me about them and the night they played at Mackies.
The new tenant feeds off the Hungry Ghosts queuing outside the Croft or from outside the canteen's fence he asks them, drinking coffee, cocktails, a pint or two, for spare change or a cigarette. His relationships are based on their capacity to gratify his needs and wants. It doesn't nourish him without product.
He limped out of the lift having said to his friend on the way up, 'Sometimes it seems to take longer than other times but I know it's the the same each time.' The limping, crutches, occasionally a wheelchair after amputation, when it's known to have been said, 'It's not a joke anymore.'
His friend said, 'Hmm,' watching the numbers.
The new tenant has miles to go.

WAIT FOR ME

...Stokes Croft, the people who wander the streets with anything left, wondering...headlines, films, the number of cars, public transport, bodily fluids in the lift, someone's friend staring at the wall...
she asks me things, makes suggestions, what we could do...when I got further than how I felt I understood why I was this side and not the other...
'I'll be fine,' she said when I dropped her off...lost minutes in the afternoon.
When she was back at the flat I asked what happened and said, 'I want to stand for election.'
'I won't vote for you,' she said, 'because you didn't wait for me.'

2009-10-08T21:13:00.002+01:00

DUVET

‘Oh,’ she said when the door of the lift opened. ‘Hello.’
She got in the lift.
‘Hello,’ I said. ‘How are you?’
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’m at a meeting in the Deaf Centre had to nip back let the dog back in someone said something about a dog and I remembered that he’s been out all this time so I went back and he’s had quite a run around, anyway,’ she said, ‘that’s a big bag.’
‘It’s an old duvet,’ I said, ‘been in a box a year or so and I thought it was time to get rid of it as I’m clearing out the place.’
The lift nearing the ground floor.
‘You should leave it by the Deaf Centre or the park so someone can find it and use it or you could take it to the hostel,’ she said.
‘That’s what I was going to do,’ I said. ‘Take it to the hostel, leave it there, you know, don’t want it to get wet or anything.’
We walked to the corner of King Square, by the Deaf Centre. She went in. I carried on to the hostel front door and pressed the buzzer.
‘Yes?’ a woman’s voice.
‘I’ve got a duvet here,’ I said leaning down to talk, ‘been in a box a year or so, I was wondering anyone here might be able to use it?’
‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘Bring it in, bring it in.’
I pushed the door when the buzzer sounded and walked into he foyer of the hostel. She stood behind a counter, three or four young men the other side, one of them was saying something.
I put the bag with the duvet down and said, ‘Is it okay here?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
The young men paid me no attention.
‘Okay,’ I said and left the building.

2009-10-06T16:45:00.003+01:00

TWO FOURS

On the way down Four got in the lift and said, ‘Hello, young man,’ which is why I like him, or appreciate him, these small replenishing moments of illusion.
‘Alright?’ I said in Bristolian.
‘Cor,’ he said, ‘blimey, this weather.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘It’s like you don’t know what to wear.’
‘I know,’ he said and pulled at his top. ‘I put a shirt on under this because I thought it was cold and of course it isn’t so I end up sweating like a pig.’
‘Like the filth, you mean?’ I said.
We laughed.
On my way back as I came down the slope runs to the front door from the alleyway up from the Bell, Four was getting out of the car his sister/girlfriend/both ferries him around in. He got to the door before me and I held it after he pulled it open.
‘Oh, hello,’ he said. ‘Twice in one day, aren’t I the lucky one?’
‘My pleasure,’ I said, smiling.
‘Been shopping?’ I said.
‘I’ve just been to Tesco’s,’ he said, ‘and I got outside and I was desperate for the loo.’
‘Oh yeh?’ I said.
‘It’s drinking all the water,’ he said. ‘It’s worse than when I was on the beer but I got to keep drinking it because I’m training and I got to keep hydrated.’
‘Things change as you, we, start getting older,’ I said.
‘Tell me about,’ he said, but I didn’t think I had to.

2009-10-03T18:29:00.000+01:00

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2009-09-30T22:53:00.001+01:00

ROAD RAGED

He got out the car came towards me shouting, ‘Go on then, get out the car, go on, you cunt, get out the fucking car.’
Opened the door of my car which already that morning I’d used to transport materials to her studio in Mivart Street, pop into Charlotte Keele to order a prescription, and drop her off wherever it was she wanted dropping and now to get to work.
‘I’ve got your number,’ I said not really thinking he’d collapse in a heap and beg me not to make more of this incident.
What had happened was I’d turned into a side road and this was his gripe - as he was articulating it loudly accompanied by small flecks of spit a couple of them I felt on my face and recoiled wiping them away – that I hadn’t stopped to let him pass but instead had made to pull into the space of the triple driveway on the left a little further into the road than he thought acceptable considering, I imagined later having not managing such activity during my public berating, his speed and superiority and indeed moral right to the road at such time as he wanted it…NOW NOW NOW.
As I was saying, ‘Get out the fucking car,’ he shouted.
There was a vein running up the side of his neck I noticed and he was going red. I decided not to get out of the car and later was annoyed at myself for stopping and giving the opportunity for this man to share his thoughts about what I’d done. And later still I admitted to myself some culpability for the rage he expressed when I angrily pointed at the space I intended to use to let him pass and tapped the side of my head suggesting ignorance or thoughtlessness or stupidity on his part for not realising what I planned as we sat the front windows of our cars adjacent and looked each other in the eye.
I was scared and remain shaken even now. He was younger and fitter and could if he'd so wanted hurt me. I am embarrassed I allowed myself to be vulnerable in a situation unnecessary and avoidable in so many ways.

2009-09-25T03:43:00.000+01:00

THE EGG

‘Is it an egg?’ he said from one of the low walls in St. James Barton roundabout.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘But it hasn’t got shell.’
The man got up from the wall and walked stooped over to where the egg lay midway between the phone box and where the plane tree stood until chopped down a few days ago. He crouched down, reached slowly, picked the egg up.
We stood together when he squeezed the egg.
‘Is it real?’ I said, wondering if it was a rubber copy, and not wanting to touch it again like I did before taking a photograph which is when the man said, ‘Is it an egg?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to eat it.’
‘I thought it was laid by one of the pigeons,’ I said. ‘They left it there, you know?’
‘But what about the shell?’ he said. ‘Why isn’t it on the egg?’

2009-09-24T22:04:00.001+01:00

HOME

‘Shake my hand,’ she said to me halfway up Thomas Street as I made my way back from an Occasional Cinema at Magpie, top of Picton Street.
I approached her shook her hand warm, clammy, weak grip.
‘I heard you earlier,’ I said, ‘where the film was showing. You shouted, “I’ve been in the valley of death and I’m still standing.”’
‘I’ve just got out of prison,’ she said. ‘How long you think I did?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Eighteen months and I’ve just got out.’
‘You said,’ I said.
She was using crutches, her feet were bare and the middle toe of her right foot was bandaged.
‘That’s my son,’ she said pointing at the young man wearing a stripey shirt and standing nearby astride a pushbike.
‘Look at my toe,’ said mother, and I did, ‘You want to know what happened?’
‘What?’
‘The police jumped me, got me down and held me and chained me, they did, then one of them hit my foot, look at it, it’s horrible isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ I said about the cut and bruised foot the skin of which was red and tight with swelling.
We didn’t speak for a moment with the traffic on Stokes Croft and voices from Hamilton House.
‘I don’t want to go home,’ she said. ‘I’m scared.’
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘Yes, but that’s my son,’ pointing again at the young man.
‘You said,’ I said. ‘Is he looking after you?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I need looking after.’
We Said goodbye, and as I neared Dove Street she shouted, ‘Hey,’ and I stopped and turned, ‘I’m in court on Tuesday.’
‘Oh yes,’ I said.
‘I’m giving evidence against a paedophile.’
‘Good luck,’ I said and with that made my way back home.

2009-09-23T23:57:00.001+01:00

DON’T

Waiting for the lift when JJ came out his flat carrying a rubbish bag he put down the rubbish chute. Out of the chute room I said to him, ‘You been using my laundry time?’
‘What?’
‘You been using my laundry time?’
‘Why?’ he said, defensive.
‘No problem,’ I said, ‘just I know you’ve used it in the past…’
‘…no I haven’t.’
‘I know you did and I got pissed off with you, remember?’ I said. ‘I was stood outside round the corner and you walked up the street and we had a discussion about it and I said I was pissed off.’
His face was red and looking up at me.
‘Anyway,’ I said not wanting to dwell on the conflict past. ‘Why I’m saying is I’ve changed my time so that time, the time you used…okay, the time you say you didn’t, it’s free now and I thought you might be interested.’
‘My time’s at eight,’ he said. ‘When’s yours?’
‘Ten,’ I said. ‘You might want it is all, is what I thought.’
‘Even if I did,’ he said, ‘you’re bigger than me,’ backing off, smiling at last.
‘Oh,’ I said, gesturing with my hand as I made my way into the lift had arrived, ‘Don’t.’

2009-09-22T20:13:00.001+01:00

FOR B

‘I have some sad news,’ she as she sat down opposite.
His seat was empty again. He’d been unwell.
‘Very sad news,’ she said and paused slightly before saying, ‘He died yesterday, unexpectedly.’
I started laughing and Lavender next to me said, ‘Why are you laughing?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
Fizz said, ‘I wonder if he knew how much he was loved.’
‘You loved him?’ I said, wary of one sided epitaphs. ‘He irritated me sometimes repeating himself the way he did. It was like underlining everything, making his point more than he needed.’
‘He had a history of not being listened to,’ said Lavender.
‘That’s true,’ I said, listing, ‘His mother, wife, and sons both who gave up on him.’
‘He gave up on them too,’ she said.
Silence.
‘I was thinking about how I’d say goodbye to him,’ I said.
‘What would you say?’
‘That I respected him for deciding to do what he did at his age, that he thought something was worth doing something about, that I noticed he’d changed the years I knew him.’
‘I thought he was very brave,’ said Fizz.
He’s the second man I’ve known has died unexpectedly the last two weeks. I wouldn’t say anything about either if they were alive but they’re not, they’re dead and this is for B.

2009-09-20T16:27:00.001+01:00

UPDATES

Received text: At plough watching manc Derby
Sent text: Troopers hill. Any score?
Received: 1 all. 20mins
Received: 2-1 united
Received: 2-2
Received: 3-2 untited
Received: Three all
Received: 4-3 owen 96 mins. You missed a cracker
Sent: Sounds like it. I’ll watch it later, thanks for the updates

2009-09-19T18:05:00.001+01:00

SCREAMING

‘You know how people say, “I’m free,” or, “I’m well,”?’ he said.
‘You mean when you ask, “How are you?”?
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘and they say it in a different language like Hebrew.’
We were drinking coffee. Comfy sofa is why we chose the café.
‘Yes,’ I said.
He said, ‘They invented eight, then five and then three.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Descending?’
‘Eight was the best,’ he said. ‘So it was downhill from there.’
He went into a stream of repeats before returning.
‘The number eight is about renewal,’ he said. ‘The leaves fall off the trees and know they’ll be back.’
‘What, reincarnation?’ I said.
‘Rebirth,’ he said. ‘They always come back screaming.’

2009-09-14T11:00:00.003+01:00

TANTRUM

‘Got any spare change, mate?’ he said. ‘I need something to eat.’
I’d just crossed Stokes Croft on my way to leave a copy of the SC at the top of the steps the drinkers often sit and shout at passers-by when they’re able to see beyond their self-referential limits, when interrupted.
‘Yes,’ I said, stopping, taking change from the left back pocket of my jeans. ‘There you go,’ giving him a pound fifty.
‘Thanks mate,’ he said and we began to go our separate and opposite ways.
‘I might as well throw this away,’ he said, voice raised, and I heard the coins hit the ground. One, the pound coin, rolled long enough for me to see it come to rest in the road a metre or so from the pavement on which the fifty pence piece now lay.
‘What the fuck you doing?’ I said.
‘What’s the fucking point?’ said the man, his face more red than when we first met. ‘I’ve been asking for change for an hour and a half and that’s all I’ve got…’
I walked past him to pick up first the fifty then the pound coin the traffic narrowly missed.
‘You ask me for help and I give you some and then you,’ I said warming to my theme, ‘basically tell me to fuck off by throwing it down like a child having a fucking tantrum.’

2009-09-11T23:56:00.003+01:00

WITH A SMILE

Decay.
It’s happening. Picking up the feather sent my back into spasm, biting into an ice cream broke a front tooth. What it left was a stub and sharp edges and soon the inside of my top lip sore. It wasn’t long before she noticed like everyone else would when I said anything, opened my mouth. Who’s going to want to fuck me now?
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I’m your dentist this evening.’
‘We’re just up from the arches,’ she said when I phoned to get help.
‘The old city?’ I said. ‘I know where you are.’
He told me the options when I leaned back in the chair: capped; an implant; a plate. ‘The cap’ll last ten years or so then you might have to think again but I’d keep your own teeth as long as you can. When they’re gone they’re gone.’
He packed the stub, covered the sharps, shaping cement with his finger. ‘It doesn’t look pretty,’ he said and then again after saying, ‘But it’ll do until you get someone else to finish it off.’
At home with a mirror, wondering what I thought about how I looked with a smile.

2009-09-10T17:43:00.001+01:00

TWENTY FOUR SEVEN

‘It was unprofessional,’ I said tomorrow morning.
I’ve been around town. Birmingham. I know it a little, family here. It’s a big city with a busy centre, I like it. Why don’t I live somewhere else? Why didn’t go when I had the chance? I stayed when I had the chance and became a friend in a high place.
Women walking on high heels and pulling short skirts down. Men walking with them protecting hopeful, together or not.
‘Paranoids can be cunning,’ he said.
‘Vigilant,’ I said. A psychopath is cunning, looking for advantage.
The receptionist signed me in was on duty when I left the hotel. Crossed a couple of roads the first in front of a bus broken down at the lights before lighting the joint I’d rolled earlier in my room. Kept to the edge of the crowds until I finished the smoke.
‘Hey mate,’ said the young man with ash blond hair and carrying a holdall over his shoulder. ‘You know where the National Express bus station is?’
Stop. Look like I’m thinking. ‘Er, no.’
‘Okay,’ he said.
Taxis, a bus, a burger bar. The same four people I’d seen on my way out.
The double doors open on my way in. Collar up, attention on the carpet, my reflection in the mirror adjacent to the lift. They can’t see me, did they see me?
She asked if I had room service and I told her, ‘Twenty four seven.’

2009-09-04T23:56:00.008+01:00

NN

He died in pain, that’s what it looked like, clawed hands and a screwed up face. The autopsy said the hernia killed him, a twist in the bowel stopping things getting through. She said it was dried blood looked like coffee but it was his own shit he brought up.
If I hadn’t found him she would have and as it was she cried all day. I dreamed about it the night before like I dreamed a plane flying into the flats the tenth of September.
We made a notice about his death said when the funeral was. We asked to put it up in shops and pubs and the bookies near where he lived.
Some people didn’t want to hear what had happened and someone came round to see how he was, was upset when we told her. She’d known him forty years she said. ‘He was a lovely man,’ she said. Other people said that too.
The woman stood between the parked cars however, said, ‘Fuck off,’ to the man leaning on his bike. ‘Fuck off and die,’ as she walked away towards us. He rode the opposite direction to her and never looked back.

2009-09-01T19:04:00.001+01:00

APPRECIATION

‘Can I change my laundry time?’ I said.
‘Permanently?’ said the caretaker I often saw in the laundry early Tuesdays.
‘Yes,’ I said, absorbing the self-inflicted impact on my routine.
The caretaker came over to where I stood by the glass fronted box the laundry times are displayed.
‘I’m here at the moment,’ pointing, ‘and I want to move here,’ pointing.
He took an old hinged glasses case out of the left side pocket on his shirt. He opened it, took out a tortoise shell framed pair of glasses. He put the case on the folding table near the window and the glasses on his face. He opened the time display box with a key on a bunch he got from the back pocket of his trousers.
He is a small man, hunched back stiff neck. We had a conversation last year and he told me he was going to retire in a few weeks but I never noticed he had and said soon after, ‘I thought you’d be retired by now.’ He didn’t seem to hear me, maybe he’s a bit deaf, it wouldn’t be unusual a man of his age, but he mightn’t of wanted to talk to me so ignored the question.
Today he was helpful.
‘Do you need a letter of confirmation?’ he said turning to me as he closed and locked the display box door.
‘No,’ I said. ‘Thanks for your help, appreciate it.’

2009-08-31T20:43:00.005+01:00

THE GROUP IS DEAD

I’ve learned something about myself the last few days.
She said, ‘I can see how you feel excluded. I know you’ve said it before but I can see it now.’
We were about to leave when the people we knew and had shared a table with said they were staying the night and arranged to meet in the morning for breakfast.
‘No one said anything to us about staying the night,’ I said to her later which is when she said she understood why I might feel excluded.
‘It might be because they know you don’t drink,’ she said.
‘Maybe,’ I said, ‘but I can’t tell how much is me and how much is other people.’
‘You do exclude yourself,’ she said.
‘I know,’ I said. ‘But I don’t feel secure like I used to, something’s changed.’
The group I want to be part of existed for about ten years during which time it met as a whole group and as different combinations of its individual members. Even though I struggled to belong and feel valued, simply by being a member of the group was good for me…
…the group is dead…
…and despite it having ended I’ve still wanted what I got from the group…
…the group is dead…
…I’ve tried to keep the group alive by imagining that I am excluded from it…
…the group is dead…

2009-08-29T08:36:00.001+01:00

SHIT OFF HIS SHOES

We drifted apart, stopped calling each other and meeting for drinks. One story I like to tell is it happened because I moved over here, that it was too far for either of us to visit. But I did visit every Friday, maybe I was too drunk one time too many.
I wonder if he said anything about us to anyone or just cleaned the shit off his shoes.

THE FIRST OF MANY

‘I love you,’ I told him once when were stoned on mushrooms and playing with tarot. The cards came alive and would speak to us in those strange voices they have.
We kept them in a box an eye carved on the top of the lid, an elipse.
‘Remember the two circles and laughing til we cried?’
Truth is? I miss what we had, making things together, then I said, ‘I’ve had enough,’ and he said, ‘Okay,’ when I needed him to say, ‘No,’ and help me fight my envy, the urge to destroy what is good in my life.
He wouldn’t have known that, not then and since we don’t talk…
I’d like to apologise, ‘Sorry,’ I’d say taking responsibility instead of blaming him as I’ve done for so long…and he’d be the first of many…

2009-08-28T21:02:00.009+01:00

UNNECESSARY DISTURBANCE

He phoned me up and said, ‘Can you give him a lift back after we’ve finished playing?’
I said, ‘I don’t want to have to wait until the end before coming home.’
‘You leaving early?’ he said.
‘Might do.’
‘I’ll have to find someone else then,’ he said and put the phone down.
Once we were friends but not now and I don’t like myself for feeling pissed off the only time he contacts me is to ask a favour…
He’s one of those people maintains a distance from me about which I don't have a problem. But having made that decision I’d like them to respect themselves enough to stick to it and avoid any unnecessary disturbance.

2009-08-21T14:26:00.003+01:00

OFF THE STREETS

We turned into Warwick Road from the St. Pauls roundabout.
‘I was parked here once,’ he said, ‘and a girl came up to me and asked if I was looking for some fun and I said, “I’m having fun already.”’
He laughed and looked over at me.
‘They work here,’ I said.
‘It used to be City Road,’ he said.
‘I remember,’ I said. ‘Now they work along here and up Stapleton Road and Fishponds Road a bit further on,’ I said.
He waved at someone who waved back from outside CC Tyres.
‘You know the taxi driver got stabbed down there?’ he said as he drove us down Warwick Road.
‘By the Old Fox?’ I said.
‘He was a friend of mine,’ he said.
‘Oh yeh?’
‘The man who did it stabbed him from behind through the back of the seat all the way into his heart dragged him out onto the road went through his pockets and left him to die.’
A wait at the junction…one…two cars, a van, a bus…
‘He was wearing a tag when he killed him,’ he said, ‘and they caught him using the mobile phone he’d stolen and wearing the man’s baseball cap. I mean,’ he said, ‘he was wearing a tag.’
‘He’s doing twenty-six years,’ I said remembering the photograph in the paper.
‘I know,’ he said, ‘but you got to keep them off the streets.’

2009-08-20T12:54:00.001+01:00

DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS

‘Alright?’ he said as we approached from different directions the front entrance to the flats.
‘Hello,’ I said.
‘How are you?’ as I held the door for him and he walked through bent double the hood of his jacket partly concealing his face.
‘Well,’ I said. ‘How about yourself?’
‘Yes,’ he said taking the hood back from his head and looking up at me. ‘Not too bad.’
‘Weather’s a bit changeable,’ I said thinking of the conversation I’d had earlier about how we, the English, use talk of the weather to manage the anxiety of social interaction.
‘Isn’t it?’ he said. He rested his hands on knees as we waited for the lift to come down from six. ‘I’m knackered,’ he said.
‘I’m not surprised,’ I said. ‘Rain and wind this morning, then sun this afternoon.’
We got into the lift and he pressed for his then asked me what floor I wanted.
‘How’s the dogs?’
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘They’re over at the hostel now…’
‘I noticed…’
‘…they gave me a year’s ban having them here so they’re there with Mr and Mrs.’
‘I’ve seen one of them, I don’t know which it is, the lighter one…but I’ve seen him leaning out one of the top windows barking as I pass.’
‘That’s Eric,’ he said. ‘He’s my favourite. I know I shouldn’t have favourites but he was my first so he’s my little boy.’
‘Not so little,’ I said.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ve got three of them now so when I took them all out they can be a handful,’ and he showed me what it might be like waving his arms as if pulled in different directions.

2009-08-19T13:44:00.001+01:00

HOME

It’s sterile. Putting feet up is not an option, nor is making a cup of tea for oneself. ‘I’m going to make a cup of tea,’ I said once, ‘anyone else want one?’
‘I’ll do it,’ she said getting up from the white puffed up sofa matching the white pile carpet.
‘It’s alright,’ I said, ‘I can do it.’
‘I insist,’ she said not through clenched teeth because she’s too polite for that but in a way that made it clear the insistence was not to be challenged further.
The cup of tea she brought me wasn’t the cup I’d’ve made which would have the bag left in to brew stronger as I drank.
Back at the flat I said, ‘Now I can have the cup of tea I’ve wanted all weekend.’
The D said, ‘I hope no one ever says that after getting home from visiting me.’
We’d left their house at six thirty, now it was one in the morning. Why so long? We’d spent four hours waiting by the side of the road playing I-spy, listening to the radio, texting friends, writing a piece a word each, being frightened, and wondering how much longer we’d have to wait for help to arrive.
‘You feel safer with the hazards on or off?’ I said to the D.
‘On,’ she said. ‘At least we can be seen.’
The car had started wobbling out of my control on the M3 above Southampton but had corrected itself quickly before, on the A34 north of Winchester, it had wobbled again but this time with a grinding noise coming from the rear forcing me to pull over into a convenient lay-by and phone for assistance. Two hours later some arrived then two hours after that the truck to take us home.
When I said goodnight to the D who wanted to phone a friend she said, ‘Thanks for getting us home.’

2009-08-18T01:36:00.003+01:00

UNDER NEWSPAPERS

There was a sound clanging beneath our universe calling for mum. We laughed at a picture appearing above us. It followed after when we approached discretely, with caution considering circumstances beyond our control. Suddenly, quite amazingly, and despite previous knowledge of events we expected, success jumped forth and multiplied.
However and unfortunately although, we nevertheless sought hard evidence to which we would be bound respectably and in glorious technicolour. Cars swept away the remaining fears we conceived yesterday whilst claims against us were demanded by lawyers defending rights eroded earlier.
We wept.
But through tunnels prepared tomorrow, anticipating rain, wind, and fallow mud beneath us, we crawled desperately expanding possibilities awaiting trial. Tribulation loved misery beautifully completely and imaginatively.
Once, when taking stock, I said, ‘She loves carrot and me but hates beetroot.’
‘Is that right?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘They redden as embarrassment descends happily upon her, ripening without cause or care. Oh, magnificent worktop, how formica suits you, flattering curves, edges and depressions. She told me I could save money from hibernating under newspapers.’

2009-08-14T09:55:00.006+01:00

ONE THING

‘I’m glad you came,’ she said.
Barely able to stand my legs full with memories of her I said, 'Okay.'
We looked down from the top of the glass house where I lived most of the time.
‘Who’s that?’ she said pointing at the figure below.
I cleared my throat, 'That's her.'
We kneeled down, our fingers touching as they hovered like damson flies over a pond.
‘You were good once,’ she said and showed me the photograph of the young boy I used to be.
‘I wouldn’t change anything,’ I said. ‘Because if you change one thing…’

2009-08-13T23:54:00.000+01:00

DISREGARDING

On my way home waiting to cross the junction bottom of St. Michael’s Hill and Park Row when he e-mailed me after a weekend party at his place came to mind.
‘Sorry how she behaved, if I’d heard what she said to you I’d have said something about it,’ he wrote.
‘Thanks,’ I wrote back, ‘It was okay. She was drunk and sounded like she needed to get it off her chest and I thought she was channelling her mother.’
He didn’t reply then or written since. Predictably I took offence but once I got that out the way embarrassed because a reply is bothered but no reply is disregarding.

2009-08-10T18:43:00.002+01:00

THE WAY THINGS WERE

On his back looking up from the worn brown carpet in the room we used to shoot and get stoned they were blue: his lips, the tips of his fingers, the ends of his toes.
‘What happened?’ I said.
‘OD'd,’ she said.
They got into the house infiltrated our space with their shit when one of the women worked the streets, dealt a little, brought some friends round and they moved in.
By the time we left the wreck that remained of the house we’d made our home any romance I’d had about the way we’d been living was dead.
The landlord said, ‘Thank you,’ when I gave him the key. ‘To be honest,’ he said, ‘I’m glad to see you go…no offence…’
I wasn’t offended, surprised we’d lasted so long the way things were.

2009-08-08T22:20:00.002+01:00

A NICE EVENING

He’s not been around awhile at least I’ve not seen him but he got in a few floors below mine as the lift went down. I was a bit annoyed it stopped but quite pleased to see him.
‘Alright?’ he said looking out from the hood of his jacket.
‘Hello,’ I said. ‘How’re you?’
‘Got a touch of the flu,’ he said, bent double, hands on his knees.
‘Is it swine flu?’
‘I haven’t got the temperature,’ he said. ‘So I don’t think so, well they said I didn’t.’
‘No?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But it’s not the thing.’
‘Oh?’
‘No,’ he said, ‘the thing is I can handle the flu but it’s my thigh’s the thing that’s getting me.’
‘What about it?’
‘It’s blue and it hurts,’ he said.
‘You had it checked out?’
‘I’m going on Monday,’ he said. ‘It’ll be alright til then if I stay indoors and keep warm.’
‘Okay,’ I said.
As I held the front doors as we left the building he kept talking, walking as if stomach cramps. I listened, concerned, this young man always friendly, a user, vulnerable, in pain, things to say, asking after me and whoever else is waiting for the lift and shares the ride...
‘I’ll be alright,’ he said.
‘You take care of yourself,’ I said.
‘I will,’ he said. ‘Have a nice evening.’

2009-08-08T12:29:00.005+01:00

He thought about the joy he'd brought into the world, the televised lives keeping him company.

2009-08-08T00:54:00.001+01:00

THE WRITER

The writer sat at the desk in front of the window through which he looked out over the east side of the western city he’d made his home.

2009-08-06T13:31:00.005+01:00

RELIEF

All the people I've known throughout the years who, during this time, have decided not to be my friend are wonderful, talented, good people. The reason for their decision to terminate a friendship with me is because I am a despicable person. I am glad I have come to accept this. I'm just disappointed it's taken so long despite the wife telling me years ago I was fundamentally unlikeable. Perhaps I should listen to her more often? Perhaps not...

2009-07-31T23:22:00.001+01:00

TIMES LIKE THIS…

Got back to the flats and the man lives on the first floor held the front doors for me to follow him through.
‘Thanks,’ I said, twice…or did I say, ‘Cheers’ one of those times?
Anyway, the lift was there, we didn’t have to wait for the gift left for us (I do take it personally, yes).
‘Is that what I think it is?’ he said, leaning down to take a closer look.
‘It looks like it and smells like it,’ I said. ‘So I’m guessing it is.’
‘I agree,’ he said, straightening up and saying, ‘It’s beyond...’
‘Beggars,’ I said.
The lift stopped and he got out but turned to say, before the door closed, ‘How far you got to go?’
‘The top,’ I said.
When I got to the top I knew I couldn’t leave the shit, which was undoubtedly human, there in the lift where the D and her friend might find it, so I got a bucket and mop and disinfectant and spent five minutes cleaning it up.
Times like this…

2009-07-27T22:58:00.001+01:00

COOKER

I bought a cooker today. The D asked me too. ‘There’s something growing in it,’ she said as we stood in the kitchen for her to make her case in front of the old one. One of her friends is staying and arrived today, we were late meeting her at the station. When we got back to the flat I made a cup of tea for the three of us. When I’d handed them each a mug I said, ‘Shall I leave you to it?’ I’m very awkward when I meet people the first time like walking on a knife edge.
Drove the length of Filton Avenue before stopping at the The Locker on the Gloucester Road. They had one second hand for eighty-nine, the clock didn’t work, and they told me how to connect it. I said, ‘I’ll think about it,’ and left the shop.
It was about what I wanted to spend but seeing what I’d get…Oh, it was clean and the woman looking over the top of her glasses or fiddling with some papers on the table she sat behind said, ‘We do a lot of business with him.’
Nothing in Fishponds, well, not until we went to Curry’s. The one we chose they didn’t have any in stock but the branch at Winterstoke did.
‘You want to pay for it here then pick it up there?’
‘No thanks,’ I said. ‘Sorry.’
At Winterstoke they had two on display. One had a dent the other a dodgy foot. We got twenty pounds off the already sale price for the one with the dodgy foot which I fixed when we got back.
The cooker was being shrink wrapped when I asked, ‘Does it come with a cable to connect it up?’
‘No,’ he said having had to ask. ‘But you can get one at Wickes’s, you know where it is?’
‘I’ve just bought a cooker and it doesn’t come with a cable to connect it?’ I said incredulous. ‘That’s so me,’ I said later, ‘getting all excited…’
At Wickes’ I said, ‘You an electrician?’ to the man looking at the cables near the lighting section.
‘No,’ he said, ‘but I know something about it.’
I told him what I needed and he showed me the cable, ‘This one should do the job,’ he said.
The manual said a qualified electrician only should connect the cooker to the mains but the D did it.

2009-07-26T15:51:00.001+01:00

SINCE MOVING IN

She’s got a friend visiting in a few days an event the like of which means she cleans the flat because her standards are so much higher than mine. This time however, because she’s living with me while she looks for a place of her own, she’s painting the kitchen and has got me working on the bathroom.
‘How long’s she coming for?’ I said.
‘Six days,’ she said and I screamed a high pitched scream, ‘Six days?’
We looked at what needed doing and she said, ‘Did you paint the doors that colour?’
‘No,’ I said, ‘they were like that when I moved in.’
‘Oh,’ she said.
‘I know,’ I said, ashamed of how little I’d done to the flat since moving in.

2009-07-21T19:21:00.001+01:00

WHAT I THINK

‘You want this?’ she said throwing the blister pack of tramadol at me.
‘Might as well,’ I said acting cool after catching the pack, turning it over in my hands, ‘have some now.’
‘I didn’t mean now,’ she said.
I took two tabs out washed them down with the coffee she’d made while I’d done the laundry. Later I'd have two more.
‘This is lovely coffee,’ I said. ‘What is it?’
‘The half price stuff from Wilkinson’s,’ she said.
‘Aah,’ I said, ‘I know it well.’
She e-mailed someone about something as I doodled on the scrap piece of paper with a black gel pen I’d taken out of my pocket.
‘What do you think of zoos?’ she said.
‘Hmm,’ I said, taking time to organise the thought. ‘I wouldn’t like to be an animal in a zoo,’ I said, ‘that’s what I think.’

2009-07-18T15:02:00.000+01:00

HE SMILED

He was singing in the subway as we approached. I put my hand in my back pocket felt for change and took out what was there and looked at the coins in the palm of my hand.
He had an inflatable toy resting on a soft toy just in front of him. There was a dark cloth to one side had a few coins.
We stopped and I said, ‘You mind if I give you change?’ meaning more coppers than pieces of silver.
He sang, ‘I saw you dancing in the moonlight…’
‘Did you?’ I said and he laughed but only stopped singing to say, ‘Thank you,’ when I dropped the coins onto the cloth then walked on into town.
After lunch in café Amore on our way into Broadmead I said, ‘They treat the customer right, he’s trained them well, is part of why I like eating there, that and a panini is about enough this time of day.’ Then I told the story of buying the NC10…and she said she knew what I meant.
‘It’s him again,’ she said, pointing to where the buskers play outside Tesco.
‘Oh yes,’ I said and looked away when I caught his eye and he smiled. I thought he recognised me from earlier and was embarrassed that I wanted him too. ‘You think he recognised us from earlier?’ I said.
‘Yes, I think he did,’ she said, ‘he smiled.’

2009-07-15T20:32:00.000+01:00

FLAT

They were on the balcony of the dead man's flat. The flat of the man said when they were trying to evict him that they'd have to carry him out in a box: turns out that's what they did. He died in his sleep his girlfriend finding him cold and still next to her when she woke one morning.
The two on the balcony, a man and a woman are devotees of self-medicating, their faces gray like the others who worship in the stairwells and dark corners...This is the body, This is the blood, Do this and keep doing it in remembrance of me...
I've seen the man on Stokes Croft, walking the walk gets walked by walkers round here. I've seen him coming in the top entrance of the block but I've not seen the woman he's wrapping his arms around, leaning on, who seems at best indifferent to this attention.
'Wonder how long they'll last?' I said, thinking about the previous occupant, his habits, smile, eyes bright saying, 'Come along and see what you think,' as we waited for the lift. 'They've been practicing in my flat, you might've heard them.'

2009-07-14T23:58:00.000+01:00

MEDICATION

I saw the tramadol on the table by the door and I knew if I took it she'd never remember it'd been there. I didn't take it, thinking about the side effects. It's my good deed for the day: not stealing her medication.

2009-07-14T19:39:00.003+01:00

COCAINE

'I was thinking,' I said, 'About last week when you asked me.'
Her eyes where like when she'd left him and'd been crying all night.
'I was quite aroused,' I said.
She said, 'It wouldn't be just us two...'
'It would change things between us.'
She said, 'I like the way you talk about things.'
'I know,' I said, 'but just, not now...'
We sat in silence a few minutes.
She crossed her legs, turned more to face me.
'I was at a party this weekend,' she said, 'a dinner party. Not only did I almost sleep with someone then wake up in the morning wishing I hadn't, but at the end of the meal out comes the cocaine, shed loads of it, little piles on the table and everyone sticking their nose in it, I was the only one didn't have any, I felt very prim and very bored,' she said, 'watching them,' she said, 'Have you had cocaine?'

2009-07-13T18:17:00.000+01:00

HOW IT GOES

‘See-saw Margery Dawes
Hickory dickory dock…’ he said when asked what it was.
‘No, no, no,’ he said. ‘That isn’t right.’
‘What isn’t?’
‘That isn’t,’ he said.
‘“That” is right,’ he said. ‘“Which” would be wrong,’ irritating me sat nearby listening, no, over-hearing…
‘What?’ shaking his head. ‘I meant the song,’ tired, no, weary, like this was common between them, ‘the song isn’t right.’
‘How’s it go then?’
‘See-saw Margery Dawes
Jenny shall have a new master
She shall have but a penny a day
For she can’t work any faster,’ he sang. ‘That’s how it goes.’

2009-07-10T23:33:00.001+01:00

OH

‘You got pain?’ she said.
‘Feel a headache starting,’ I said, ‘see if I can nip it in the bud.’
‘How many you taking?’ she said. ‘Two?’
‘Three,’ I said.
‘Three?’ she said. ‘Is that alright?’
‘Some internal bleeding, got a bit of a habit.’
She said something else then I said, ‘I was listening to what you were saying.’
We were in the kitchen she was telling me a dream where her dead husband visits.
‘He said he’d come to check I was alright,’ she said. ‘I said I missed him, that there’d always be a place for him in my heart.’
She was quiet, her attention in the dream.
‘He turned into a snake,’ she said. ‘Crawled inside me it felt like I was pregnant then giving birth. But the midwife was a junkie and took my baby for a score.’
‘Oh.’
‘A social worker turns up too late, does a risk assessment and calls for an inquiry. The next thing I know we’re at the crematorium.’
‘Which one?’
‘South Bristol, the one you can see the bridge from…’
…I knew it.
‘…after the service we got a taxi,’ she said. ‘And you were driving...’
‘Oh,’ I said.

2009-07-08T23:25:00.002+01:00

HAS BEEN PASSING

A man with long golden hair, ran past me turning, slowed down, said, ‘It is you, I thought it was.’
‘It is,’ I said, thinking, ‘He going to stop?’
‘How are you?’ he said.
‘Okay,’ wary. ‘You?’
‘Yes,’ he said walking backwards in front of me.
‘You working?’ taking some control.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘at a call centre, on a smoking helpline,’ he said.
‘People phone say, “I need help smoking”?’ I said.
‘It’s NHS Direct,’ he said. ‘Thing is I live just round the corner,’ pointing, ‘that road there,’ I didn’t look where he pointed because I knew the road he meant. ‘I saw you,' he said. 'Thought it was you.’
‘Okay,’ I said, waited long enough then said, ‘See you around.’
I watched him run off, sure the man I’d blanked a few weeks ago not far from here, as even then I’d thought, had been him.

2009-07-06T23:06:00.001+01:00

THE LONG WAY ROUND

He was coming out his front door when I arrived and he said, ‘I’ve got to go and meet Wag at the Thali, we’re getting some food,’ and he held up one of the tiffin’s you have to have for a takeaway from there. ‘Can you wait,’ he said, ‘You got time?’
‘Well,’ I said looking at my watch, ‘I’m running out but I can wait.’
‘Wait inside,’ he said and unlocked the door he’d closed behind him.
Inside I sat down on the sofa’d been moved to a side wall from the window bay we’d put it after carrying it back from the far end of Greenbank. There was a book on the nearby table I picked up, opened, read some, there was a knock on the window.
‘Where is he?’ said Wag when I let her in.
‘He’s gone to the Thali, said he was meeting you there,’ I said. ‘Didn’t you see him?’
Inside, me on the sofa, she in the chair against the back wall, we chatted. My phone rang. ‘Hello,’ I said.
‘I’m down here but she’s not,’ he said.
‘She’s here,’ I said, ‘sat right here.’
‘Is that him?’ she said.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘and he’s just hung up on me.’
‘Didn’t he say goodbye?’
‘No, just hung up,’ I said. ‘Mmm, that’s not like him.’
We chatted. Then he came back pushing the front door open, slamming it shut.
‘Where were you?’ he said.
‘I was down there waiting but you didn’t turn up so I came up here,’ she said.
‘Which way did you come up?’ I said.
‘Through the alleyway.’
‘Well, I didn’t come that way, and I wouldn’t,’ he said.
‘That’s why you didn’t see each other, and,’ I said to her, ‘the alleyway is the long way round.’

2009-07-02T21:24:00.001+01:00

ROUND THE CORNER

He calls me Pete. It’s not my name.
John isn’t my name either. Nor is it Charlie.
There are more names that aren’t than are mine.
I corrected him once but I he mustn’t’ve heard because he called me Pete today.
‘Hello, Pete,’ he said, ‘got a new motor?’
‘Hello,’ I said. ‘Yes, I have,’ and wanting to keep talking said, ‘And it’s like yours.’
‘Yes. There’s a man round the corner does a good deal on a service. Better than Bryan Brothers,’ he said.
‘Better than Bryan’s?’ like I’ve been around.
‘They charge something like two-thirty, forty, fifty,’ he said, ‘and he’ll do it for half that.’
‘Not half as good, though, is it?’
‘He’ll come here and take the car then he’ll bring it back when he’s done,’ he said.
‘That’s handy,’ I said and he said, ‘He’s a very handy man, being just round the corner.’

2009-06-30T18:58:00.001+01:00

BEST BOY

‘Not so warm today, is it?’ she said walking into the laundry, carrying a square plastic washing up bowl out of which, when she reached the extractor and pushed its lid aside, she took a blue wet cloth, probably a towel, my glance was cursory to avoid embarrassment, which she, with one flowing movement, put into the extractor closed the lid and pressed the ‘on’ button.
‘It’s supposed to be hotter later,’ I said.
‘In the afternoon?’
‘Twenty-seven, or is that Wednesday…or tomorrow?’ I said. ‘Tomorrow is Wednesday,’ mostly to myself…
‘They said it’s going to drop to twenty on Friday,’ she said, ‘which is a bit easier.’
‘That’s true, it’s a bit hot for me the way it’s been,’ getting personal.
She sat leaned against the extractor, facing me.
‘We had the most uncomfortable experience yesterday at the cinema,’ she said. ‘We went for a preview, it was free so we thought we’d go…’
‘…at the new one in the Circus?’ pointing in the general direction.
‘No, at the Odeon, yeah?’
‘Yes, I know it.’
‘Anyway, it was a preview, the gangster film just out, oh, what’s it called, “Dillinger”? or it’s about him…’
‘…the one with Johnny Depp?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I loved it, a really good film. But there’s no air-conditioning in there so we were sweating all the way through and at the end everyone got up and left without even waiting to see who’s the best boy.’

2009-06-29T22:53:00.001+01:00

STATEMENT

I bought a hat. The sign outside the shop said, ‘summer hats now in.’
Inside the shop a woman was trying on a hat, pulling it side to side, watching herself in the mirror.
‘There’s a mirror here you can use,’ said a woman’s voice behind me, coming to my rescue.
I turned round to see her place carefully from behind the counter, a mirror. I tried on two hats.
‘The straw ones better,’ she said. ‘That one’s just nothing, but the straw one makes a statement.’
‘You think so?’ I said – a moment’s pause - ‘Then, I’ll take the straw one,’ I said, ‘I want a hat that makes a statement.’
She took the hat. I put the other one back on the hat stand.
‘I’ll cut the label off,’ she said using scissors she picked up from beside the till. ‘You don’t want that flapping around.’
‘No,’ I said, ‘it’d undermine the statement.’

2009-06-29T14:33:00.003+01:00

LIKE US

The money hasn’t come through so I phoned the garage said I’d be there later in the week not this morning. The man I spoke to was friendly and I finished the conversation with, 'Lovely job.'.
Caught the number seven bus from Whitehall Road and sat next to a man had long grey hair and a beard, and behind an older heterosexual couple.
The Lawrence Hill roundabout through Old Market to the new complex stop that the bus drivers like but creates more dangers for pedestrians. It was here a woman, wearing full-length dress, included a long headscarf, got up to get off the bus.
‘It’s disgusting, isn’t it?’ said the woman in front of me to the man next to her.
‘Is it?’ he said.
‘You wouldn’t know it was a man or a woman,’ she said. ‘I think we should know that’s all, it's rude,’ she said. ‘And if people come over here, well, they ought to fit in, do things like us.’

2009-06-27T13:42:00.001+01:00

WORM CENSUS

It was the second time I’d seen Pension Plan the morning of. The first on my way to and now, on my way back from dropping money in an envelope off at Fly’s
‘Morning,’ I said, and having noticed the handle of a garden tool I assumed was a spade, sticking up behind him out of a pannier, ‘You on your way to the allotment?’
‘No,’ he said, ‘Willsbridge, dig up some worms and count them.’
‘You mean do a worm census?’
He laughed, said, ‘Yes, and count the different species of worm as well.’
‘I didn’t know there were different species of worm.’
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘Have a nice day, then,’ I said as he made to leave.
‘It’s my birthday too, today,’ he said. ‘That’s why I’m going out.’
‘Oh, okay,’ I said and, ‘Happy birthday,’ as I waved him goodbye.

2009-06-23T01:52:00.003+01:00

A MOVE

‘Is that Four’s girlfriend?’ I said.
‘It’s his beard,’ she said.
‘Beard?’ I said. ‘You sure? Last time I saw him he was sitting on the window sill, said he was waiting for his girlfriend.’
We were in her kitchen. I could see Four, fussing around a car like he does, like I do.
‘Biffo reckoned he was gay but not out,’ she said. ‘That’s why he’s got the beard.’
‘I can’t see it,’ I said.
‘He’s not very soft,’ she said. ‘Cuddly, I mean.’
‘He always seems desperately sad to me,’ I said. ‘Lonely…he always says “young man” to me if we stop for a chat, which we do when he calls me over, takes me to one side, once I came out the lift on the ground floor and he wanted me to watch him chase some people out the flats.’
‘“Young man”, though,’ she said. ‘Sounds like a move.’

2009-06-20T23:00:00.003+01:00

NOT LIKE IT IS FOR US

The door opened right to left with a frustrated sigh, and there was one of the single women from above. The one didn't come to the meeting to protect the interests she'd thought she'd secured and lost the vote.
‘That was a sigh,’ I said, reaching out.
‘It’s taking so long,’ she said, laughing like it wasn’t funny, the length of time, the interruptions.
We stopped twice more on the way down, the second time, ‘This is typical,’ she said, ‘when you’re late, in a rush, you know?’
‘If I lived on this floor I’d use the stairs,’ I said. ‘I mean what’s the problem? Take a few flights be quicker than waiting.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘It's not like it is for us.’

2009-06-15T23:55:00.003+01:00

FUCKING ON THE BUS

‘Fucking Bedminster,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t go there,’ he said. ‘If I did there’d be more fucking chance of bumping into him,’ he said.
They’d got on at Old Market.
‘Two to the Centre. Thanks.’
Sat on separate seats until the roundabout – not far.
‘He’s a fucking paedophile, he is,’ said the man sat next to him, in front of me.
‘A paedophile?’
‘Sixty-five and shagging her? He’s a fucking paedophile.’
‘He’s not sixty-five, he’s sixty-two.’
‘Sixty-two then, and shagging her, I'm telling you,' he said, ‘he’s a fucking paedophile.’

2009-06-10T22:45:00.004+01:00

WHERAIR ET CAY FRAME

‘Michael, Michael, Michael,’ shouted the woman along Jamaica Street as I walked up from the bottom end of Hillview.
‘Michael, Michael, Michael,’ she shouted as I stepped on to Jamaica and she, followed by two other women and a man who carried a can of drink, started pointing the direction of Stokes Croft.
‘Michael, come here you,’ and she reached him, hugged him.
He waved at the three people behind her who all started saying, ‘Michael, Michael…’ overlapping each other until they reached him too.

alleyway-Dove Street-entrance-lift

‘Yay Bully?’ he said when the lift door opened on its way up, a few floors below mine.
‘Er, no?’ I said.
‘Weal, I may a'weal come up wi' yay thay gi doon'n see i e’s thay're.’
‘Ok,’ I said as he stepped in, joined me.
‘Yay 'ear thar noise frame thee foourth?’ he said.
‘What, just now?’
‘Yeh,’ he said, ‘thay wee shootin' 'n' swearin' 'n' everytheen.’
‘The lift was on three when I came in, so maybe it came from there.’
‘Maybe,' he said. 'It wear lewd, wherair et cay frame.’

2009-06-09T16:59:00.006+01:00

THE BOSS

There are cages on the lower floors of the flats in which tenants can store stuff of theirs they don’t want in their home.
They were talking, leaning on the railings of the walkway outside Carolina. First, so not to disturb them, I walked past, then turned back to take the opportunity.
‘Excuse me,’ I said. ‘Sorry to interrupt,’ having wondered what they might be talking about, smoking, “tenants” was the one word I heard on my approach before they stopped, looked at me, along the railings.
‘Yes,’ said the nearest, the caretaker of my block, the one I’d gone to ask.
‘There any storage cages free?’ I said.
‘Oh,’ said the furthest caretaker. ‘You phoned last week didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘I forgot to pass it on.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘I’m here now and asking.’
‘Let me see,’ said the main (as far as I was concerned) man. ‘Trouble is people die and because it wasn't recorded if they had a cage or not their stuff sits there for years. We had a search recently found one but like I say because it wasn’t recorded we don’t know how many more there are to be emptied for someone else to use...'
- his profile, matt skin, white teeth -
'...I’ll have to check with the Boss,' he said, 'and he’s away for two weeks.’
‘Oh, okay.’
‘You just moved in?’ said Furthest.
‘Ee’s been here ages,’ said Main, then to me, ‘You do know there’s not enough for everyone to have one?’
‘Er, yeh, I do,’ I said, and after a slight pause, ‘Okay, well, I’ll leave it with you.’
‘Yeh, like I say, I’ll have to talk to the Boss.’

ONE TIME

There was resistance to adventure, a fear of the world both inside and outside of the home.
She hated him, and took revenge with thirty years of marriage. She called it duty but fooled no one.
‘I can’t do anything for you,’ said the psychiatrist they went to see.
She survived a childhood trauma which came her way from before she was born. Together they created a potent brew of despair and yearning.
He said, ‘She doesn’t know how to love.’
‘What about you?’ I asked him one time.

2009-06-08T22:47:00.002+01:00

NOT EVERYONE WOULD KNOW

He showed me the hash.
‘A fiver,’ he said.
‘How much is there?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Anyway they’re getting some more soon,’ he said. ‘They’re waiting for giro day.’
Pause.
‘For a minute there I was back in the nineteen eighties,’ I said. ‘“Waiting for giro day”’s not a phrase I’ve heard, I don’t think since, well, then.’
‘Nor me,’ he said. ‘It’s like that joke, “what’s green and gets you pissed?”’
‘Not everyone would know.’

2009-06-05T18:06:00.001+01:00

I DON'T WANT TO BE LATE

Four was sitting on the sill of the Hein Gericke window. He waved.
I waved, 'Hello,' I said.
'I'm waiting for my girlfriend,' he said taking off his sunglasses. 'Her car's having an MOT today so she's coming down on the bus.'
'Well,' I said. 'Nice day for it.'
'They say it's going to rain later.'
'I thought there might be some thunder yesterday, the way it felt,' I said.
By this time I was past him on my way to town.
'Yes, it was very heavy.'
'Anyway,' I said, thinking it time to go, 'I'm meeting someone. I don't want to be late.'

2009-06-05T16:31:00.003+01:00

BARRY AND HIS MISSUS

Wearing a pink towel jumpsuit, crossing Jamaica Street towards the hostel, she shouted at a woman was pulling on the handle of one of the doors into the building, 'Oi, wait up.'
'What?'
'Wait,' she said, 'I've got something.'
'Fuck off.'
'No, wait,'said Pink, her hand in the bag she carried. 'Look what I got.'
'Fuck off,' said the other woman, then with affection, 'You little cunt.'
Both of them laughed, the dog barked and looking up I saw its head poking out the top corner window.
'Does it recognise me from the lift?' I thought recalling how it used to watch me, its white rimmed black eyes, as if eyeing up lunch. 'Could it remember how frightened I was?'
Whyjay is always friendly, sometimes stopping for a chat, never asking for money. His friends took the fall, got an ASBO excludes them from the estate on threat of arrest. That's why the dogs are in the hostel not the flats.
In the park sitting on the top nearside bench a man played guitar. Some people don't like the hostel being where it is, they think it lowers the tone, brings trouble. I say, 'If you don't like living here, move out, get a transfer like Barry and his missus.'

2009-06-02T22:37:00.000+01:00

NOT DEAD YET

'You get the e-mail I sent you?' she said as she passed me the blister pack.
'Which one?' reaching across her kitchen table.
'The one about the side effects of tramadol with what ever you take for the migraine?'
'Sumatriptan.'
'Is that it?'
'Sumatriptan?'
'Yes.'
'That's the generic name.'
I pushed the tabs out.
'How many of those you taking?'
'Two,' I said. 'I haven't had anything else this morning.'
'It's if it's in your system,' she said. 'I looked it up, see what the side effects were and sent you an e-mail which I guess you read because you're not dead yet.'

2009-06-01T21:45:00.000+01:00

WITH MY OWN EYES

If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, my own eyes I tell you, I would never have believed it – a grown man, yes, that's what I said, a grown man, lying on his back on a sofa, waving his arms and legs in the air like a baby and - this is the good bit – shouting, 'Look I'm peeling a banana with my feet,' as he peeled a banana using only his feet...and when he'd done, he ate it.
I saw it, I tell you, with my own eyes.

2009-05-28T21:35:00.002+01:00

MR STOKES AND MR PEOPLES

'Is that Mr. Stokes?' said Mr. Peoples from out of sight round the corner up the stairs at the back.
'You recognise his voice?' said the man sat at the table.
They were in the shop's the gallery every now and then.
'Hello Mr. Peoples,' said Mr. Stokes when Mr. Peoples appeared.
They shook hands.
'You come to buy some art?'
'If I see something I like.'
'That goes without saying.'
Mr. Stokes nodded thoughtfully, 'Of course.'
'You want me to explain the system?'
'Would you?'
It was an auction. Dutch.
Each painting had next to it a sheet of paper at the top of which was a starting price with amounts descending each day until June 6th and the artist's reserve. A bidder could write their personal number against any of the dates and that day's cost if no other bid had been made for that day. If they wrote their personal number the day of the date against which they'd written it it would mean they'd bought the painting that day at that day's price. If they wrote their personal number against a later date than the day's date they wrote it, they had to wait until the day of the date against which they'd written their personal number had arrived before the painting became theirs at that day's price. No bids could be made on a date already passed. Is that clear?
'So I can buy something today?' said Mr. Stokes.
'If you see something you like,' said Mr. Peoples.

2009-05-24T23:31:00.001+01:00

THE DOG

A dog walked into a job centre, sat down at an advisor's desk.
The dog crossed its legs and said to the advisor, 'I'm looking for a job.'
The advisor, taken aback at the dog in front him asking for a job, said, 'How about the circus?'
'Why?' said the dog. 'They need a plumber?'

2009-05-21T22:25:00.002+01:00

TIME FOR A DRINK

I'm bored...
...mind numbingly, jaw droppingly, head achingly, upper lip stiffingly, cheek turningly, nose scratchingly, eye pokingly, ear clippingly bored...
...bored, bored, bored, bored, bored...
...leg stretchingly, knee bendingly, shin towingly, toe curlingly, foot stampingly, buttock clenchingly, thigh slappingly, bone crunchingly bored...
...bored bored bored bored bored...
it's time for a drink...

2009-05-19T08:22:00.001+01:00

I UNDERSTAND

'Can you drop me off here?' I said to the driver of the number five bus.
'Sorry,' he said. 'I can't.'
I was standing at the front of the bus was waiting at the traffic lights, junction of City Road and Stokes Croft.
'You let the other man off back there after the stop,' I said.
'That's because I forgot to let him off,' he said. 'You saw when I got there the woman waved me through.'
'I did,' I said.
'Thing is,' he said, 'we're closer into town and I could get seen and then I'd be in trouble.'
'Seen by an Inspector?'
'No,' he said, 'another driver.'
'Really? I know an inspector would turn you in but another driver?'
'Yes,' he said. 'We've got these books and if we see anything wrong we're supposed to write it down and if we report it they give us a reward or something like that.'
'A bit of divide and rule?'
'Exactly,' he said. 'And some of the white drivers use it to get back at the ones they don't like.'
'Outrageous,' I said, genuinely appalled.
By this time we were on Stokes Croft and the driver was slowing the bus into my stop, the last one before St. James Barton.
'Thank you,' I said.
'Okay. And I'm sorry.'
'That's alright,' I said. 'I understand.'

2009-05-18T11:29:00.001+01:00

DECISIONS, DECISIONS

Watching, having just sat down with a single to Easton, two teenage girls deciding to get on the bus or not. They hug, like a while, before one gets on. Then the other when the driver threatens to close the doors. The irritation comes all the way back to me.
'On the bus, see you soon,' text, let her know I won't be long.
The windows could do with a clean.
Past the flowers and the messages written on the pavement for Troy:
'Troy you in heaven now, don't need weed to get high, Love always.'
'You were the best, miss you forever.'
Newspaper story taped to the lamppost – Troy in bold black letters - a note from the family saying, thanks, it means a lot.
The two girls talking, not quite hearing what they say 'til Stapleton Road.
'“Who the fuck you think you are telling me what to do?” or “Fuck off telling me what to do”?'
'What's the difference?'
'One's askin' the other's tellin'.'
'How about, “Fuck off and leave me alone,”?'
'I don't want him to leave me alone, just stop telling me what to do.'

2009-05-16T00:17:00.003+01:00

PAPERS

He held my head back, prised my mouth open, began pulling my teeth out one by one.
'You should see a dentist,' he said. 'Your breath is worse than I could have imagined.'
'Thank you,' looking up at him, his dark eyes magnified by the lenses of National Health glasses not unlike those I wore getting beaten up by skinheads in nappies. 'I was talking to my boss the other day and my teeth were rotting, I could feel them getting soft and the taste was awful.'
'What happened?'
'Well,' I said, not at all embarrassed , 'he started to retch then he vomited before I could finish what I was saying.'
'How rude,' he said.
'That's what I thought.'
When he'd finished re-arranging the furniture he showed me his penis.
'Why are you doing that?' I said.
'Because you're a cunt.'
'Doctor,' I said. 'You must discharge me immediately and put this man to bed.'
'Willingly,' he said and gave me my papers.

2009-05-14T23:44:00.001+01:00

BIG MOUTH

'This is horrible,' I said about the coffee of which I'd just taken a sip.
We were in our friend's cafe for lunch having met outside the Galleries, Broadmead.
'I hate it here,' she said as we walked towards Union Street. 'It always makes me want to buy things.'
'That's the idea,' I said.
Back at the coffee, I said, 'Here, try it.'
'It's weak,' she said.
'Well,' I said, 'it just isn't good enough. The food's lovely but this won't help, we have to say something.'
'I'll take it back,' she said, 'when I get some pudding.'
'Swap it for pudding,' I said.
She got up from the table, went to the counter, came back with a chocolate brownie.
'What she say?'
'She said I could have this,' she said, 'free.'
'Mmm,' I said.
Here, have a bite.'
'No thanks.'
'Go on,' she said, 'or I'll feel guilty.'
I took a bite.
'You've got a big mouth,' she said.

2009-05-12T20:14:00.001+01:00

TOGETHER

There was Truck coming out of Superdrug, Broadmead.
We walked towards each other on mutual recognition. Unsure he'd want a word. The last time I wrote about him, which wasn't about him at all, it occasioned my exclusion by a mutual friend. I learned anything can be used to fulfill any agenda if you look and think hard enough.
'What you up to?' he said after we'd shook hands.
'I'm off to a cafe for coffee, do some work,' I said. 'I've got my notebook with me,' tapping my bag. 'What about you?'
'Lam Rim,' he said.
'I know it.'
'There's a group meditation, keep my practice together,' he said. 'Mostly I do it on my own but it's easy to do less than I want.'
'It can help being in a group,' I said, knowing what I was saying.
We talked computers. I told him about my NC-10 and he said he'd got the Asus, though he hadn't got online yet.
'You use a router?'
'There's so many in the flats I piggyback one of those so I don't need one,' I said. 'That's why I got this, well, one of the reasons. I wanted to be portable because I like to work in cafes and this is so light, unlike a full laptop, and it's top of the range, I couldn't resist it.'
'I know,' he said, 'and the Asus is the next one down.'
'You got the EEE?'
'That's the Acer,' he said. 'The Asus's better than that. And I know what you mean about the weight. I've carried the bags of visitors up to my flat and they've had a laptop in the bag and, well, never again.'
We laughed.
'Anyway,' I said, and we moved towards his bike. 'I'm off for that coffee.'
'Where you going?'
'Soho.'
'Where's that?'
'The Circus.'
'The Devil's Hole,' he said.
'Yes,' I said. 'Next time we meet you got time, let's go together.'

2009-05-10T21:50:00.002+01:00

JANE IS ON THE TRAIN

Jane is on the train, Jane who John said fancied me. 'Why don't you ask her out?'
...John who I didn't phone twenty years ago when stuck in London needing a bed for the night but slept beneath a bench in Trafalgar Square...
...John, who I stayed with in Bristol, looked after when he sprained his ankle,
...John, who I played in a band with, drank Special Brew, did hot knives, walked around town on benefit in Thatcher's Britain laughing at Bob's joke, 'What's green and gets you pissed?'
...John, who Jane asked, 'How do you keep your sylph like figure?'
...and Jane is on the train, on her way back home, or visiting?
When I walk past her on my way off the train at Reading, will she recognise me? Not that I noticed, but she might already have remembered and turned away to avoid a knowing look, 'So what?'
So what? So if she still sees him I'd like her to tell John she saw me so he thinks of me one more time.

2009-05-08T21:10:00.000+01:00

LOCAL TOPICAL POLITICAL COMMENT

The following comment, handwritten in slanting blocks on a piece of A4 paper pinned on the residents noticeboard next to the lift near the back entrance on the ground floor level, appeared today.

HERE COME THE GURKHAS
THEY CAN FIGHT THE SOMALIS
FOR THE FEW REMAINING PLACES
IN THIS MONGREL COUNTRY.

I'd like to know who wrote this and the evidence used to construct the argument...a place to begin...

2009-05-07T13:09:00.002+01:00

A BASIC FAULT

- a basic fault found on the borderline...
Four took me to one side at the front door, told me about the row the early hours...
'...two police cars and a van parked just there, across the road, I came out on the balcony, bollock naked, see what the shouting was all about, a police looked up, couldn't see me all, but you know...'
'yeh,' I said, 'who was it, you know?'
'the woman from eleven, you might know her, blond hair...'
'no'
'...she's okay, during the day that is, but at night,' he said, 'it's not the first time I've heard her.'
'you know what it is?'
'the man on the eight, weird, writes letters to all the women'
'what's he say?'
'oh, “come and see me, suck my dick,” stuff like that'
'nice'
'gets a few hits but pisses a lot of people off'
'like her?'
'no, she's just jealous,' he said, 'you know what women are like, get jealous'
'yeh'
'someone seeing her boyfriend pissed her off, set her off, off she went'
'a lot of offing'
'loud too,' he said, 'woke me up, and I've got cataracts'
his eyes were cloudy, I saw

2009-05-06T23:17:00.005+01:00

SUE

on Stokes Croft I saw Sue
and on Stokes Croft Sue saw me
not for the first time
since way back when she knew me
and I knew her
but it's the first time since that time
there was a smile passed between us
and you, yes you, you should have seen us
or maybe not for it wasn't that hot
when way back then she knew me
and I knew her

and when I'd seen her
(that's today her, not back then her)
just after, as I crossed the road
it made me wonder whether it's because
I'm so oft a presence on Stokes Croft
that all those Sues from way back when
those sights, those ones who I once knew
choose Stokes Croft, this site to view
to show themselves reminding
that the way back then belongs back then
with Sue

2009-05-05T16:59:00.002+01:00

THE CARDINAL

'Be careful,' she said as I climbed up onto the wall the top embedded with sharp pieces of glass.
The plastic corrugated roof of the neighbour's lean to at the back of his house was vibrating in time to the music had woken us in the middle of our social dreaming.
'Oi, what the fuck you think you're doing?' shouted the neighbour as he ran from deep in his house to the back door he opened and said, 'The police are outside. I called them when I heard you were coming.'
The children helped me off the wall before running along the dark alley to the front of the house where by the blue flashing lights of several patrol cars I saw them attack the police.
'You're coming with us,' said an Inspector grabbing my arm.
Behind him I saw the children cuffed, under arrest.
'Let me talk to the Cardinal,' I said. 'I've met him, I know him.'
The Inspector let me go. I made my way through the crowd had gathered, passed Derek who was on a break from filming Criminal Minds, turned left up the lane to wasteland where the Cardinal had last been seen in robes and a crown.
A man, hands in the low pockets of an olive green cardigan, walked towards me: The Cardinal.
'I need your help,' I said.
A word from him and the police let the children go. I made sure Derek's son was safe before joining the others walking a path lined with young trees.
Not before too long we came to an old well maintained house adjacent to a church through a large window at the front of which I could see a crucifix, collection plate, a trapeze artist waving.
Soon it was time to leave.
The Cardinal carried a tray, on it four glasses, a bottle he opened with a corkscrew.
I thought this might be the last time I saw him and felt like crying but he filled the glasses, gave one to me, raised his, made a toast: Nice to meet you, he said, someone I know will be a good friend for life.
My turn, my toast - Thank you for helping, I said, in a situation I needed your help.

2009-05-04T22:01:00.004+01:00

EASTON TOUR DATES

Thebus asked if I wanted to play in a pool tournament, Tuesday, 'There's Roni and Dad,' he said. 'I've asked them, too.'
'Oh,' I said, 'I thought you meant the real thing.'
'Well, it would be,' he said. 'At the Loaf, when the farting socialists play.'
'Tempting,' I said, 'but I'm watching the football at Island's.'
'What time's that then?' he said, and, 'You could come after,' when I told him, 'get Island down as well.'
It's true, I could do all that.
Earlier, Dub'd said why don't I come down the Greenbank, Tuesday, play a few tunes at the open mic.
'If I didn't have to be there,' he said when I told him I'd be watching the football, 'I'd do the same.'
But talking with Thebus made me think I could do all three: the Greenbank, football (second half only), the Loaf.
'It'll be like a tour,' I said, so I phoned Island told him the change of plan.
'You still want to come eat?' he said.
'Yes,' I said..

20:00 The Greenbank
21:00 Football
22:00 The Sugar Loaf

2009-05-03T16:55:00.003+01:00

JEANIE ON THE BUS

Jeanie was on the bus. I'd bought, 'Warwick Road, single, thanks,' to the driver and sat next to her, on the edge of the seat my legs in the aisle, one of two bags on my lap.
Cabot Circus, just before the lampost with flowers and newspaper headlines for Troy, killed there a few days earlier, Jeanie was saying to an older couple, about her age by the looks, sat in front of her, 'This is the first time I've been here, I've not been here before, I don't like it.'
'I prefer how it was before.'
'Me too,' said Jeanie. 'We don't need all these shops here and people coming to spend their money instead of shopping local,' warming to her theme. 'You remember the shops in Armoury Square, Stapleton Road?' she said.
'By the pub?'
'Yes,' she said. 'Well I was telling someone about them the other day and they said there'd never been any shops there, so I said, “How long have you lived here?” and of course it wasn't long so I said, “If you don't know what you're talking about, Shut your mouth.”'
Both the woman and the man in front of me and Jeanie, laughed and I turned to Jeanie who looked at me and smiled.
Armoury Square, Jeanie got up to get off the bus and a woman from across the aisle, getting up said, 'You getting off here too?'
'How long have you lived here?' said Jeanie.

2009-05-02T19:45:00.001+01:00

TAINTED

On may way to Staples, bottom of the M32, in House of Fraser, they had what I wanted, talked to me nice and showed me where to get free software rather than buy it - and from them, yet - so although I paid a little more than I would than where I'd planned I said to myself on the way home carrying the bag careful, 'I don't mind paying more if I get good service,' like I just had.
If I'd gone elsewhere after that kind of attention the product would've been tainted and I don't like my products tainted.

2009-05-01T21:08:00.001+01:00

TOILET FIX

‘It doesn’t take much,’ he said, ‘does it.’ coming out of the toilet in the laundry which I myself, on occasion of being on the job, have used, his trousers around his buttocks the way younger men do makes me want to shout or, if close enough, tell them, ‘Pull your trousers up,’ his belt in his hand -
‘What doesn’t?’
-giving the game away -
‘Someone’s had a shave in there and didn’t wash the sink around,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t take much, I was saying.’
Looking at him and thinking, ‘Why’s he telling me this, his belt in hand makes it obvious what he’s up to, trying to make out he was there legit, like I care, too.’
I said, ‘You wouldn’t think so.’
‘Well, I’ve done it now,’ he said, earning his occupation.
Long job was it? as he’d been fifteen minutes, more time than I’d’ve took cleaning a sink.
‘Well,’ he said. eyes on the clock, ‘Better go.’
‘Yeh,’ I said, ‘you better had.’

2009-01-26T23:29:00.001Z

THE LAST POST

As Geoffrey Household - who’s name is not a household word but the word household - said, there is a time to kill.
...and it’s that time now.
Welcome to the last post.

2009-01-25T10:34:00.007Z

WONDERING

She said, 'I've been wondering...'
The next day I said, 'I've been wondering too.'
Then she said, 'Let's keep wondering.'

I bought a CD three or four years ago buy Webb Pierce because it had a version of 'There Stands the Glass,' one of the great drinking songs I'd first heard Ted Hawkins sing.
But 'Wondering,' is the song I's reminded of.

WONDERING
Recorded by Webb Pierce
Written by Joe Werner

[D] Wonderin', wonderin'
Who's kissing [A] you
Wonderin', wonderin'
If you're wonderin' [D] too

2009-01-20T19:07:00.001Z

CUTE

‘Hello,’ I said to the child came over to me as I opened my front door.
She said something.
‘What’s that?’ I said, interested.
‘She’s calling her little brother cute,’ said her mother who had a can of Tenants and was kneeling in front of a pushchair had in it a baby crying.
She was living across the way, though I’d not seen her for a while, not since the Filth was asking about them. There were dark patches under her eyes and I wondered if her drinking was why she spoke to me seeing she’d not done so before apart from in the lift, and that wasn’t friendly like now.
‘Oh,’ I said to mother then turned and looked down at the daughter, ‘You like him, then,’ I said, ‘your brother?’
‘Cute,’ she said.

2009-01-15T11:23:00.000Z

A DECADE AGO

Why was she in my dream?
She began by saying she’d got a big house in the best part of town and moved on to wanting to share a hotel room with me.
I was kneeling in the mud by Club:UK on Stokes Croft making a figure out of pipe cleaners when she knelt down beside me.
‘Hello,’ I said.
She looked at me the way she had ten years ago when she told me she was leaving, that she didn’t want to be with me anymore.
‘What are you doing?’ she said.
‘I’m making a figure out of pipe cleaners.’
The young boy standing behind her said, ‘I could tell that’s what you were doing.’
‘Where do you live,’ she said.
I pointed to a high building. We stood up together for a better look. We were taller than I remembered.
She was very beautiful. I wondered what it might’ve been like if we’d stayed together, had the children we talked about.
Did she think as bad of me now as she did back then? That mess...threats, a whole month without seeing her, it was awful...she called me when the time was up...what could I say? I agreed to meet was when she told me she was seeing someone else.
In the hotel room she tried to kiss me. I thought of her breath, moved out the way. Her cheeks a reddish brown, hair pulled back up into a bun.
Already I'd burnt her letters so I asked her to leave, said it was too late even a decade ago.

2009-01-13T00:03:00.000Z

THE WRONG FLOOR

‘Is it doing that with you?’ he said, looking up from stroking the puppy he’d first called into the lift, then retrieved after it'd run out and when she said, ‘Pick it up, why don’t you?’ irritable and practical like a mother would be to his fumbling dad.
‘Yeh, is,’ I said, ‘think it’s got a mind of its own.’
‘Dangerous,’ he said.
‘I’ve been using the back lift,’ she said.
‘That one just goes on and on,’ I said. ‘“Doors closing, doors closing...”’
‘It says what floor you’re on,’ she said as a matter of fact.
‘Useful,’ I said.
‘Mind you,’ she said, ‘the other day it took me to the wrong floor.’

2009-01-12T20:59:00.000Z

A REALLY GOOD IDEA

The lift floor was covered, apart from the near left corner, with what smelled like cider.
On the way the lift stopped a few floors down there was a man, a woman. I tucked into the corner and they got in next to me.
‘One of them must’ve missed their mouth,’ he said between the two of them.
‘Missed their mouths?’ she said, sniggering.
I smiled to myself trying to think of something witty to say.
- four to go -
‘Someone should buy them,’ he said, ‘one of those Tommee Tippee mugs to drink from,’ he said.
- two -
Having turned my head to deliver the line, I said, ‘That’s a really good idea.’

2009-01-04T18:02:00.002Z

THE LAST WE SAW OF THEM

‘Excuse me,’ he shouted from behind us as we walked through M and S. ‘Excuse me.’
We turned round and moved so he could run between us and say, ‘Thank you.’
‘I thought he was coming for us,’ she said.
‘Yeh,’ I said. ‘I thought he’d say, “is this your tenner?”’
The man ran toward the exit.
‘Must be a shoplifter or an incident,’ I said.
‘Let’s follow him.’
He swerved past a shopper then pushed through the door leading out to the Broadmead precinct. He slowed down, stopped, we were outside as three men walked up to where he stood.
One of the men was dressed the same as the first and he held each of the other two men by an arm. It looked like he’d just got hold of them the way they turned to him then back to the first man who now took one of them from his colleague. He took a carrier bag from, who I now saw was, the older of the men apprehended. He opened it, put his hand in. Said something to the man who said something back. He let the man go, joined his colleague with the younger man who said, ‘What?’ in the way young men do when they’ve been caught doing what they’d shouldn’t.
‘Why’d they let the man go?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Maybe the other one said, “Here hold this,” and gave him the bag when he knew they were after him.’
I tried filming as the younger man was walked off by the two, I assumed, store detectives each holding one of his arms.
They went into Boots and that was the last we saw of them.

2009-01-03T00:29:00.001Z

DINNER

‘Thanks for acknowledging me,’ she said.
The young woman selling the Big Issue on Stokes Croft, between City Road and Mr.Tomato.
- the billboard lights showing the front plate missing -
- the van with Banksy on the side passes in front of us crossing the road from Moon Street -
I had to ask her twice what she’d said, ‘“Thanks for acknowledging me,”’ she said.
It was cold, a slight breeze blowing into us on our way to Rita’s.
‘A pound for the bag,’ he said grinning first at me and D then his colleague.
‘You should,’ I said, ‘charge,’ meaning it.
‘Ten pounds,’ he said - that grin again - when he handed me the bag, in it two regular chips and a tub of curry sauce.’
‘Funny,’ I said, ‘fuckers in there.’
‘You think?’ said D.
‘Three pounds,’ I said. ‘Not bad for dinner.

2009-01-01T21:48:00.001Z

LONG ENOUGH

It's time
I've been putting it off for long enough...

2008-12-31T12:35:00.003Z

A MOOT POINT

I got one of the paintings I bid for.
He phoned me up said, 'You got the self portrait...and you need to come collect it.'
I wasn't sure which one it was, hoped which one it was and when I arrived to pick it up it was the one I hoped it would be.
Lost a few things this year, people mostly, but we can't hang on indefinitely, can we? And what doesn't get said doesn't disappear it remains to inform the next time and the time after that and so on and on and on...you can construct or adopt theories around avoidance...
She said, 'Why don't you ask, you scared of rejection?'
'Not scared,' I said. 'Just tired of it.'
D said she'd like me to be here when she gets back so I can meet her friend. I said is there anything you want me to do? You can hide your drugs she said.
I don't mind being thrown out of where I live. She said I'm not throwing you out, which is a moot point.

2008-12-30T22:32:00.001Z

IMAGINE

‘Sometimes I hide to wind him up,’ she said a slight smile her eyes shining. ‘I can see him panic when he doesn’t know where I am.’
‘Sounds like retaliation,’ I said, ‘You doing that.’
She mimiced what he does, craning his neck, looking for her, ‘Like this, he is.’
‘He doesn’t want to lose you,’ I said.
We were at a Marks and Spencer checkout.
‘It’s chaos when he comes back home,’ she’d said when I loaded my shopping behind hers.
‘Oh yeh?’
‘He’s updated my computer to make it faster and now I don’t know where anything is.’
‘Slow to them isn’t that slow to us, is it?’ I said, allying myself with her thinking of my daughter showing me a shortcut with a sigh.
Somehow we got to his anxiety when she’s out of his sight.
‘He can’t bear it,’ she said. ‘And neither can I, I’m glad when he’s gone.’
‘Home, you mean?’
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘A relief, is it?’
I’ve been reading about attachment and violence, so I’m not surprised a stranger is saying what this older woman is saying to me at this time.
She said that he’s always been like it.
‘Always?’
‘Since when I was really ill when he was younger, not five yet, and I had to go to hospital and they were taking him the other way and he was screaming and it was difficult for me too but what could I do? I was really ill.’
‘He hasn’t forgotten, then?’
‘No,’ she said, ‘and I said to his wife, “Is he the same with you?” but he isn’t and to be honest I’m glad he isn’t...I suppose I’m flattered.’
‘That he’s so attached to you?’
‘Goodness knows what’ll happen when I die.’
‘You won’t be there to see it,’ I said.
‘But I can imagine...’

2008-12-20T16:20:00.002Z

AMBUSHED

This post will be available only from the Here Shop and/or somewhere on Stokes Croft.

2008-12-20T00:25:00.002Z

EVEN MORE

My watch said, ‘22:42.’
‘Is there a bus coming soon?’
‘I’m sorry?’ I said, a moment to adjust to company.
‘Is there a bus coming soon?’ said the man again.
Beard, long side-parted black hair, eyes with the orange of a street light in them. He spoke quite loud and flat.
‘There’s one at forty-one,’ I said.
‘Is that soon?’
‘It’s forty-two by my watch.’
‘Ten forty-two?’
‘Yes.’
He said, ‘You going for a few drinks?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m going home.’
‘I thought you might be going for a few drinks in town get the night flyer back.’
‘Not today,’ I said.
I liked him. I could bear him talking.
‘Here’s one now,’ he said. ‘That’s lucky...for me anyway. What about you,’ he said, ‘you been waiting long?’
‘No. I just got here.’
As the bus pulled in I moved to the end of the shelter in anticipation. I got on first, sat upstairs at the front on the right.
The man travelled downstairs, got off a few stops later. I heard him say, ‘Happy Christmas,’ to the driver and I liked him even more.

2008-12-19T10:53:00.007Z

REMEMBER IT’S CHRISTMAS

There was a banging on my front door and a raised voice.
'Is that you postie,' I shouted expecting a parcel.
‘Open up in the name of the law,’ said the same voice.
Getting out the bath I'd just got in, wrapping a towel round the bottom half of my wet naked body, I walked crab like along the hall to the door.
‘Whose law?’ I shouted
‘Ours, you twat. Now open up.’
I opened the door a little, peered out. Two policemen, blurry without my glasses.
‘Yes?’ I said. ‘Officer.’
‘Sorry to bother you.'
‘I’ll bet.’
‘Well, pleasure aside, have you seen the man lives in that flat over there?’
‘On and off for the last ten years,’ I said.
‘Recently.’
‘He was having a fag outside the laundry a few days ago and we said “hello” to each other and I asked him if he knew the two characters trying to get in the building who were shouting at us, “Oi, we’re trying to get in the building.”’
‘And did he?’
‘What?’
‘Know the two characters you just said were trying to get in the building.’
‘They said that,’ I said. ‘That’s how I knew.’
‘Knew what?’
‘They were trying to get in the building.’
‘Yes, you said,’ he said. ‘But did he know?’
‘Who?’
‘The man who lives in that flat over there?’
‘Did he know what?’
‘The two men, for Christ’s sake.’
‘Now now,’ I said. ‘Remember it’s Christmas.’

2008-12-18T23:05:00.003Z

I

A

Ample. Adequate. Able. Anticipating. Article. Abstract.

E

The Big E

I

I am deluded.
I have fantasies.
I think I can when I can’t.
I am a narcissist.
I don’t love myself.

O

Oh.

U

Useless.
Ungrateful.
Ugly.
Unctuous.
Uncontrollable.
United.
Untied.

2008-12-12T22:52:00.003Z

THE EMPORIUM

Crowds gathered outside the Emporium showing photographs by bright young things.