All posts filed under “Street style

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The trees remain ambivalent

The financial advisor said he’d call back about the problem with the mortgage. Damp, he’d said. The bank’s survey didn’t check out, he’d said. Don’t worry, I’ll sort it, he’d said. So where was the call? What’s the solution? The wife’s job is causing problems.… Read More

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The working man

He waits for the pub to open. Just like decades of working men before him. Seeking respite from exertion, from worry, from responsibility. He has a thirst on him. It’s early, but the toil of the morning is already weighing heavily. He aches. He wonders… Read More

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His work is done

A middle-aged man in corduroy. A knight of the street. Jacket grooved like gently raked sand. Trousers the width of his ego. Shoes as polished as mirrors; reflecting, multiplying his majesty. He moves like a hot panther. He knows what he wants and he’s read… Read More

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Why Denise?

“DENISE“, he shouted. Then silence. Then, with a whisper, “Denise.” When he shouted, he crunched up his face as though wracked with torment, he held his fists aloft and glared to the clouds. When he whispered, he sank back, shoulders slumped, as though vanquished by… Read More