He sits at the bar and stares at the glass in his hand.
Carefully, one by one, he began to take the rocks away.
There’s a spatter of stars fighting through the wet orange glow of the street lights, and he spins around as he looks up, his head back, his arms wide.
I lay half on the grass and half on the stones and reflected that this week would’ve had to really strain itself to be any worse.
Hello, Samaritans, can I help you?
Feathers led her over to the spot where the body had been discovered.
19/08/2007 – Photo by Rol Hirst