Stuff and nonsense.

I'd properly goofed off and thought the singing was in my head. You don't get close harmony on a bus.

A big pig on the streets of London...

Stevie took his seat upstairs at the front of the bus, and mentally leaned into the conversation behind him A: "So, you design? You're a designer?" B: ¦¦¦¦¦¦.. A: "You design houses? Have you ever designed a restaurant, or a bar?"

Ronnie had got his order wrong. He was having none of that. Mr Iqbal, shaking with bit-back rage, surveyed the smashed glass and pooling booze aftermath of the four-minute blitzkrieg.

Self-styled shaman.

Hounslow. For the dead.