one
Late-summer daydream The bus stops at Heath Street and I imagine sitting next to my dead Grandad in his garden in the heart of the Potteries, in the ‘60s. “I’m afraid of not sounding like you”, I say to him, voice a rounded pebble on the ‘20s Cambridge beachside. He just smiles at me, with only a hint of pity.
JACK HEATH
IZ MAXWELL
Casting (B)
10
