Wanoah

Scott Reid swore as he tripped over the chalk­board sign. Gusts of wind were howl­ing out of the North tonight, let­ting every­one know that winter still had some bite in it yet, and cas­u­ally mak­ing Scott’s life miser­able. He hadn’t grabbed his coat on the way out and, as a con­sequence, he was bloody frozen. Now, the wind had con­spired to knock this sign over for him to trip over in the dark­ness. The sign announced “Quiz Night!” to the sky. Scott kicked it out of his way, only slightly hurt­ing his foot, his mood unim­proved by the new intel­li­gence that the pub he was going into was hav­ing a quiz night.

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dadadadada DaDaDaDaDa DADADADADA

I wake up with a jerk and grope for the ‘OK’ but­ton on my phone to silence the alarm. Six thirty.

dadadadada DaDaDaDaDa DADADADADA

I wake up with a jerk and grope for the ‘OK’ but­ton on my phone to silence the alarm. Six thirty. I groan at the earli­ness. It’s inhu­man to be awake at this hour. (more…)

I felt a small tingle of excite­ment as I walked out of the sta­tion and clambered into the back of a black cab. Was it excite­ment? Or just a touch of nerves? They can feel like the same thing, can’t they? I’m not really sure what I’m anti­cip­at­ing, but this city holds some pretty strong memor­ies for me. It’s dif­fi­cult. I haven’t been back here since…well it’s been a while. It’s like return­ing to the scene of a crime. I’m hoping…I’m hop­ing for what exactly? For it to still be the place that lives and breathes in my mind? For it not to have changed? Or for it to have changed out of all recog­ni­tion? I’m really not sure. Every street is paved with his­tory. (more…)