For once, the dog keeps quiet. The one time Percy is duty-bound to raise hell and he bottles it. Instead he sits, feet in perfect ballerina’s second position, next to the old woman’s cracked skull as it leaks blood onto the pavement.
Brent Overton looks out of his window for two hours at the same time every day. The view is nothing special; a quiet residential street in north London, and if only the houses on the […]
Oscar stands on the landing for a few seconds, staring at the blue wall, his breathing heavy with a hint of drool. His four squat legs threaten to buckle under his barrel torso. Climbing the stairs is gruelling these days.