Chick’n Chips from myfavorite Sarf London store —you know the one,bullet holes in the door.Customers scream,and they shout —heaven knowswhat they’re on about. Consumers eclectic,including me,ponderingwhat to havefor their tea. Chicken thighs?Dodgy pies?Maybe even,Curly fries? Standing there, contemplating,I wonder how longI’ll be waiting. Spicy wings?Onion rings?Napkin rings?You must be joking. Delivery riders —they seldom smile.Perhapsthey’ve…
The Ceremony Begins You never picture yourself at one of these ceremonies, but if you did, it would be like this. Cold, damp, and overcast. Perfect. As it should be. I always feel that the sun has no place here today; it feels too much like it’s trying to put the fun into funeral. I’d…