artsuicide – ii – bus
He rang up the ticket on the machine.
„That’s tuppence. What you want up at the slaughterhouse, boy. And so early too?“
I dropped the coin into the plastic tray and took the ticket without answering. (more…)
artsuicide – i – letter
The full moon peered down through the slanted window in the roof of the council house. A boy was typing a letter on an old typewriter. (more…)