Playing tracks by
O Brother, David Bowie, The Clash, Wilco/Nick Lowe, Stranglers and more.
tumbling out of the house, itself shaking still and clouding with brick-dust grey and vibrating, we found ourselves outside. a juggernaut, for although splayed open and upside-down, lay in the garden. gone the wall, the flowerbed, old man grinter's bench, indeed a fair portion of the front of the house itself. a tyre rolled down the street drunkenly. mrs. g was already out there. clutching both a blue bowl and a bucket, blinking. her hair hidden in a towel. grab this! she threw down the bucket. then she was gone. into and beyond the chaos, out into the street. terry scooped up the bucket and followed. me, too. the lorry, silver or red, emblazoned with 'macdougall milk co' was spewing rivers of thick milk out onto the tarmac and mrs. g, legs akimbo, sturdy beneath the torrent, towel washed away, held the bowl up high into the stream. she was awash with it. she turned to us, either to shout above the roar of the dairy-rain or else to clear her eyes (wild). it all suddenly made sense.