The siren passes, and the blitz of blue and yellow flashes past a moment later. Then all is quiet. From the spacious front seat of the National Express coach I have panoramic views across Leeds' city limits and the M621. The coach smoothly accelerates under a sign for London and Wakefield and we join the... Continue Reading →
Monsieur Douane, 'I'm sorry'. <<Je m'excuse>>. I did not realise that there were customs; at Customs. I simply thought your dog was cute. So I stoked it. Was <<NE TOUCHEZ PAS LE CHIEN>> really necessary To bring to a close a moment of tendresse humain? N'est pas, c'est pas la peine. Never mind, it's not... Continue Reading →
Even in Saint-Germain-des-Prés, The bourgeoisie of Paris, Hang out their dirty linen. To dry. In the public street.
The river has burst its banks and armed police parade its flanks. It seems nature and man have turned against this once great city. But in the shadow of the cloud a woman and a man walk arm-in-arm and smile. And out of the cold city dusk I feel the touch of their warmth in... Continue Reading →
Mamadou looks up from the green metal floor of the deck. ‘I was the only one there’, he says. ‘My mother went out for five minutes to buy some charcoal to cook with. She asked me to make nana breakfast. Whilst I was boiling the water, nana died. I found her, still and cold. I... Continue Reading →