On 7th January I pushed through the hot and busy club, in search of another beer, oblivion.

I laid eyes on Alonso first. It was the day we laid knife to our cadavers.

There’s a measure of forgetfulness in every glass but if you need a whole bottle then there ain’t never enough.

Sometimes she presses her ears against the wall, to listen to the giggling or the muffled, rhythmic groaning on the other side.

You do get hot summers in Bolton and we had one that year, for weeks on end as I remember...

‘ … So he turns up, yeah, in a brand new Maserati. I mean, can you believe it?’

Poppy and Dylan were playing Scrabble on the living room floor. Ignatius was asleep on the settee. ‘Who’s winning?’ I asked

From the street window he saw his wife sitting inside. Usha was wearing a plain burgundy sari.

Will Enterprises was housed in a long one-story woodframe. There were two doors, with a sign above each...

He walked past a freshly dug grave, then another.