Clive clocks love birds in need of his wisdom. With the confidence of a traffic accident black spot, he swims across. His beard’s begun to clot with peanut dust and chits of shattered poppadom.
At the primary school, draw a stick along the railings until you play the theme from the cricket, Booker T’s Soul Limbo , then just before the Hammond organ’s
He looks up through panels of light: groupers sulking in threes, pre-orthodontic limestone, the sky peering in from kitsch turquoise slots like the lamp fittings
This book was set in Leavened, 12pt. The font was designed by Frank Cossill during a period of predigious arrogance. He called himself “The Font” and was