In The Night Factory

I do not tell a lie because what I see is what I see and I cannot pretend to be effected by fashionable trends and so this is what I see and hear and so must be true etc, and of course you do believe, don’t you? My ears are sensitised and my eyes always alert, nose twitching, and I hear the neighbours rocking on the wood above, making the boards rumble. Echoes of pots and pans hitting stone floors, metal bolts rolling on hard Formica covered chip board surfaces. The cockney screeching and Geordie grumblings create a Steptoe and son like atmospheric confusion all around, “Harold! Where are all my pans? You’ve moved them haven’t you? you’d do that! you swine Harold?”.

# posted by Neil @ 4:00 pm