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Part Three: Carnival Mourning

November 13, 2019 AA Moore 0

Anticipation woke me early, my heart banging rapidly-out a reggae beat, jam-packed jots of shuddering low-end frequency licking open my eyes. Skanking figures dissolved from the night time dance into the day, a splash of Wray and Nephews remaining like a wet dream. Carnival morning is better than Christmas morning. read more

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Part 2: In a tent, under a lorry, feeling like A King

November 3, 2019 AA Moore 0

In the pause, that silence that followed, our fridge stood humming innocently between us, brightly decorated with the alphabet, a jumble of words sprayed head to toe like the multi-coloured yawns of several poets. The slightly charring smell of fish, mixing in the evening air, made me almost lean against read more

meclifford

Part 1: Bun that Baby Talk in the Oven

October 24, 2019 AA Moore 0

The BBQ crackled out, as the heaped plates of food were left lounging in the sun, free game for the wasps who instead reclined lazy and drunk under rum cups. In the afternoon-long-shade and full satisfaction, the conversation turned, as it always did with this particular group of girls, to read more

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The First Time (2)

May 2, 2019 AA Moore 0

“Are you looking for an arrangement? Would you care for another cocktail?” Air caught inside the two with the same intonation, some American inflection and a smile inside each syllable. He drained the flute, tipping the glittery, syrupy sap down the gullet. The waiter materialised for the re-fill, poured, nodded, read more

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The First Time (1)

April 2, 2019 AA Moore 0

It was in the Clapham Grand, on a floor like treacle. Just a scalp with matted brunette sweat, stuck across his eyelids. He was a disembodied cranium bobbing on a ball pit of gelled and slicked-back cruisers. That one. He was just a forehead on a dance floor. “That one,” read more

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Lidl (Shepherds Bush)

June 1, 2018 AA Moore 0

You appear on my front step with a box of food in your arms, smuggled rations, you check your blind spot to see if you were followed. A red face, dressed in your army coat, you’ve been at war. Left years ago, with the promise of fixing fajitas, came back read more

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disappear here

November 2, 2017 AA Moore 0

Dig your nails right in, fizzy cola top, carrying a sheep on your head, old style, like a shepherd from the bible innit? He’s grinning super-cute and wide, looks like an adolescent Michael Jackson with that mane, cotton wool cloud full of storms, dig your nails right in girls, don’t read more

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Midnight in Tesco

August 13, 2017 AA Moore 0

Ribena Fingering the box, Ribena dents in a corner with her nail. The Chemist doesn’t run 24 hours so, hair piled, she shoves the compressed cardboard inside her coat and moves her slippers like cross country skis past the skeleton in blue performing the midnight wash. He exhales a low read more