Ex
Philip Gross, 9 April 1992
“... Gusting across, not waiting for the lights, just one more loose end of the working day leaking home through the cracks in the traffic, at six already dark ... Across, between a humped WIMPY-jacketed back hugging two carrier-bags from the off-licence, and a shock mascara’d teenage mum gone grey in my headlights (her buggy-bound astronaut bumping down to the breath of exhaust on his cheek ... ”