Living on Stamford Street, Stretford, us kids needed to be tough. Right enough, I had my big brother next to me – Eric – but still, I needed bigger. There was a war going on […]
Bal Kishan is a hitchhiker standing by the motorway, waiting to hitch a ride. He is a young boy in khaki shorts and a t-shirt with a torn hem. A car stops. He opens the […]
‘Seggy?’ Darren has made a daisy of orange segments on his big tedious hand. The hand is too close to my chest and, worst of all, my nostrils. Sweetness is invading my head, spoiling the […]
Food is what you need. Water’s what you need. Help is what you need. A shit is what you need. Oxygen’s what you need. A mate is what you need. A good groom’s what you […]
He’s drawn a tiger in crayon. White paper shows through the orange and black stripes. The eyes are slanted and green, malevolent as poison ivy. Broccoli trees surround the tiger, and a sky-blue river meanders from one side of the page to the other.
Mam’s hands are scorched by time, raised blue veins crisscrossed over parched skin. She has a misshapen little finger where Da once brought down the blunt handle of his knife when she reached for the salt.