Public Transport

Rickety, reckless, ridiculous more like!

A young couple. 19? Baby in pram.

A father, a nuisance, tattooed skull and ring

on his finger, fingers round her waist.

Hair like straw, attacked with heat from

the night



Window-screen adaption to a day-time


‘Town please.’ she says

‘1.40, love.’ I mutter.

The baby shrieks,

a roar, menacing. Ears fragile to

the piercing heart beat of the soap

opera sketch.

Foley artist?

My eyes divert to the road. If I focus

I can hear him snap at her.

The baby’s tearful welcome draws to

a holt.

Snap of her neck.

The baby is silenced.


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