The BBQ

The invitation had said 3pm. Paul arrived at 2.Three hours later, and with barely a spark, Kevin was sweating. The plan was to light it, make sure the coals were white hot (he’d read that somewhere) and then begin cooking. By the time people arrived, he’d be half way through the cook. This would, Kev thought, have […]

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A Failed Handshake

A stroll, a glance, a little nod. Reciprocated from, I think, it’s Bob. A wave, a pass, a hand outstretched. A reach, a miss, oh what a mess. A head held low. Shoulders high. Don’t stop. Don’t turn. It’s not that guy.  

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