Dr George Addison-Blake

He drove home in a riot of drums, in a hail of his own making, kicking the island hard, hammering on while his laughter followed, a one car motorcade, past present future, the three halves of him, in a gunshot procession, tearing through the skin of the island, ricocheting home.

But it wasn’t home.

From The Parts (c) Keith Ridgway 2003. Not to be copied or reproduced without permission. For rights information email info@keithridgway.com