A light bulb is burning out as the sun sets. Talking heads on the TV. Fuck off and give me peace. The window’s open but the air isn’t moving. The shadows stretching long across the floor. I can hear a train moving through the city, there and then gone. Who the fuck even watches TVContinue reading “May”
Author Archives: Paul Andrew Sneddon
Mobile Home
The summer nights get cold here. Seems counterintuitive, but that’s just how it is. I spent the last of my retirement money on this mobile home. We’ll just drive around, sleep where we stop. We’ve been bumping around inside it like two feral cats, and it’s turning into a blood sport. I drink straight fromContinue reading “Mobile Home”
Out of Step
If you fall out of step with the world, it’s hard to get back in. You just see all the people walking by, so sure of themselves. They don’t see you. They’re not allowed to. It would break the certainty. If they do see you, they glance and look away. Best to stay in line.Continue reading “Out of Step”
Gibbons Guitar Tone
Walk through town.Tall buildings casting shadowunder the winter sun. Traffic queues up.Someone’s got the window down,making a phone call,and you can hear them half way up the streettelling someonethey need to get creamfor those haemorrhoids. Few folk laughing. Walk past the pub.Looks like a good crowd in.The band is cranking outSharp Dressed Man. I’m eitherContinue reading “Gibbons Guitar Tone”
Number 7
The rain stopped, finally. Folk hurried through the Cross. Shoppers, pub-goers, chasing the sudden sun. Stuart had the guitar. Finding an E chord. A scavenged piece of string tied neck to base for a strap. He had it slung over his shoulder, like it had always been there. People walked by, didn’t pay him anyContinue reading “Number 7”