Woodroyd "College of Knowledge."
By Mick Hanson
this is more recent writing and a change of style, due in the main i think, to having to cram it around daily work. "Yes quite naturally I feel like writing after a 10 hour day driving a poxy cab around Brighton! I mean it's so bleeding inspiring!" Somehow I've done something...and these excerpts , stories, are the result of my time spent now, when I'm not boozing, trying to forget the last dull conversation. " oh! I had that Paul Macartney in my cab the other week..."
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Churchill's War.
"To – day we have the naming of parts. Yesterday We had daily cleaning. And tomorrow morning We shall have what to do after firing. But today, To – day we have the naming of parts…"
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Dawn
The whistles are terrible at dawn. They summon the start of yet another day of slaughter. Often I lay among the broken sandbags in the bottom of the trench just simply aching with fatigue.
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Where Tha's Muck Tha's Brass!
'Vague images of grief and tragedy flickered in his mind. Somewhere a butterfly was flying out to sea: lost. La Fontaine’s duck had loved the white hen...
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The Catholic Priest Father George.
The priest was waiting in my cell. It was strange to find him there. The moment the handcuffs were taken off he stepped forward, his hand outstretched.
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Comments
well! fuck you as well!
Nothing to say but it's OK - good morning!