It reminded her of when the conductor moves to the podium and, with a couple of taps, signals the dawn of the main event.
The boys dare each other to read out loud the titles of the X-rated movies showing down the road, some claiming to have been snuck in there by mysterious older mates.
Mary Pomfret writes a lyrical response to the song Fairytale Of New York in the wake of the death of Shane McGowan.
I couldn’t determine his age. Maybe thirty. Maybe sixty. Weathered, muscled and lean.
Saturday night hot and dark/lonely widow sits outside/on front verandah no lights on
Here I am sitting on one side of the dance floor with the other women; the men cluster together on the opposite side. I am waiting for a man to give me a cabeceo – this is a ritual where a man eyeballs a woman and imperceptibly nods his head.
A tall menacing figure quietly entered the room. “I told you to leave the girls alone.”
At the youthful age of 39 poet Michael Leach find teenage memories in a Newcastle museum.
Music is always so much more than just music. It’s quite simply everything.
I had to choose well. Finally, my polished fingers landed on a yellow case, MPB Classics, and picked track nine.