The ghost of Mary-Anne

Ruth has laid an assortment of clothes across the chairs and sofas in the living room, silks and velvets in pinks and peaches, browns and blues, vintage dresses she has picked up from various markets, which are pulled out for parties or games. The children jump at them, picking up various items, which they hold…

Sex on the Underground

I notice a man on the platform at Liverpool Street Station because he looks at me in that way that certain men look at certain women. He either finds me attractive, or he’s a bit of a letch (or both), storing up snapshots of women he sees in public places for his Wank Bank back…

Valentine’s Day letter

It’s Valentine’s Day and I feel like writing a letter to a younger version of myself, zooming back 25 years. I saw her on the tube the other day, a girl of about 14, shy and mute in among her boyfriend’s friends. She’s dressed in Jeggings and a Puffa gilet, a pair of plimsolls, and…

Travel talk

A man and a woman at Hackney Central rail station. He skips a few stairs and she catches up with him, hooks her arm over his shoulder, lolls there, while telling him a story. She walks with a kind of swagger, with more attitude; more forced masculinity than her companion. They sit next to each…

Stealing sushi

Had a bite to eat at Yo Sushi. Sat next to a mother with her teenage daughter. They’d finished their meal, as there was a pile of empty plates stacked up beside them. The mum had just ordered a mini bottle of Champagne, and as the waiter opened it for her she said ‘Thank you,’…