Sadness from News
I woke up and read the news. When your mind goes back to 1964 your sitting on your dad’s shoulders sucking a Foxes Mint. You look round at flat caps and long dark figures all walking in the same direction. Voices mention mens names. Red ends of cigarettes flash everywhere, the smell of Bovril fills the air. Cobbled alleyways dark and damp the sound of feet like a stampede echoes as the pace…
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