Day Nine, 10th of October, 2014 #FoxHollies
It was a surprisingly warm night for October. She wanted to get a taxi, but I said my flat was only round the block. I needed the walk to clear my head. It was a quiet road full of houses with driveways and security lights. A world away from the Fox Hollies estate on the other side of the pub. Every time a car drove past, she kissed me to hide her face. I wondered if she was married. Was that one of the things she’d said and I hadn’t caught?
“The flat’s in a bit of a state,” I mumbled as we reached the block. There was new graffiti on the locked garage doors, but I couldn’t read it.
“Don’t worry. Whatever it’s like, I’ve seen worse.”
Still, I noticed she was tense as I guided her through the heaps of books and records, and cleared a space on the battered sofa. “Do you often bring women back here?”
“It’s been a while,” I said.
“I was being sarcastic. Don’t worry about it.” She sat down without taking her coat off.
Joel Lane
This Night Last Woman, from Do Not Pass Go, Nine Arches Press, 2011
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Lost Districts 