Alb and I always call in for a pint after work on a Friday, our ritual to celebrate another week’s work. I mean nobody likes a dead end job in insurance sales but times are hard and money’s tight. I… Continue Reading
More than even gifts, Abby Crosby loved wrapped-up boxes. Loved the anticipation. It was the same with Christmas Day. Having grown up in a large city, she enjoyed the small-town feeling in the air on the days leading up to… Continue Reading
His parents named him David, but his friends on the streets of Key West called him Dougie. He was fifty-five years old but if you didn’t know that you might guess his age at seventy. He was a familiar sight… Continue Reading
Christmas Eve. I’m in my car, trying to sleep, when the sound of Karen Carpenter singing makes me sit up. I unzip my sleeping bag, wipe condensation from the windscreen and there she is, standing under a streetlight, not thirty… Continue Reading
When they decided old Nye was no longer capable of living alone, they offered him a ‘nice room in a lovely home’. He chose a park bench at the top of Primrose Hill. Not long after that, he met up… Continue Reading