THEIR MUM AND DAD WOULD SCREAM AT EACH OTHER

The tinny clank of her eff words, the dagger in his each jaggy shout, and my mum and Nannan, ears pressed to the thin wall that splits us from next-door, whose yard I always daren’t go in, with its ghost-grey shadow hanging like a sticky spider-web from wall-end to backdoor always, and that smell of sour baked beans and vinegar, and when I saw the girl she was by the dustbins, that same smell coming off her, us going over the road to the Courthouse grass, her snogging me and me tasting that smell, then behind the cenotaph under bushes touching, her taking her pants down but I say Turn around, looking up at the black names as I rub it against her, and we don’t play again, Nannan says she went to live with another mum and dad, and I never did play with the boy, he never played out then fell under a train.

 

9. When Mum said I do

7. You press play

 
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