December 2011
8 posts
THE CHOIR
The choir was stood in the doorway of their home. The aroma of rum and moths pulsed from the male section with every hallelujah. He slid his hand over the tops of his thighs for his fingers to try and recognize the familiar bump of a pound coin. No bump here. He went back into the kitchen to retrieve a quid or two from the japanese wooden carved box where they kept anything from old bits of weed,...
