Talking of my past, here are the first few opening paragraphs of a book I started to write when I first moved to London (late 95/96). Enjoy
The sun was streaming through the bay window, he had not eaten properly for almost two weeks apart from chips and home made bread and he needed a cigarette badly. Four days now without a smoke, something had to be done about his financial situation. He remembered that advert in the picture framing shop window advertising to buy unwanted gilt frames.
The sun was streaming through the bay window, he had not eaten properly for almost two weeks apart from chips and home made bread and he needed a cigarette badly. Four days now without a smoke, something had to be done about his financial situation. He remembered that advert in the picture framing shop window advertising to buy unwanted gilt frames.
In desperation he recalled that his mother had still got his old wedding photograph in the attic and it had a Victorian ornate gilt frame so he went and dug it out. Had it really only been four years ago since that fateful day in August, he thought to himself standing on the upstairs landing staring into the dust covered print. As he had walked down the aisle with sweat dripping off the end of his nose to his chin, he had realised that he was making a terrible mistake. The first night of his honeymoon he got into the bed they shared, took off his wedding ring, turned over and went to sleep.
Later that morning as the sun reached its peak, he purposefully strode out along the steeply banked pavement towards the small cluttered store that held the promise of enough money to survive until the end of the week. Once in the shop he exchanged the frame for a crisp ten pound note and then left looking intently to fulfill his nicotine craving and something to fill his grumbling stomach. The first stop was the Cornish pastie bakery on the corner, followed very quickly by the tobacconist two doors down. Wolfing down the huge pastie, while seated on a granite wall outside Tesco's he observed a man watching him from a distance.
The Mrs thinks I should write more of this book, I'm inclined to agree with her! So look out for the next page soonish! Sleep tight & take care F.T.W.
