|Posted on February 23, 2021 at 3:20 AM|
#FireHorsesQuotes 97: “As I approached, conspicuously slow on the great machine, I peeked down the alley to see if Dad’s own old bike was resting against the shed. It wasn’t. Smiling, I felt for my key, hungry. Since moving out I’d been back quite a bit, to attend parties and to give Dad advice, but mainly to steal food. If I was lucky there’d be what Mum used to call a “happy fridge”: full of food and booze. Recently the fridge had been suffering a prolonged bout of severe depression. In fact, once it fell over and the plug came out of the wall.”
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