Chinese Boxes by Chris Green The fire engine hurtles towards me. It is out of control. It has no driver. Conan Doyle Street is narrow and on a steep incline. As it heads down the slope, it gathers momentum. It mounts the pavement. It is heading towards me. I dive into the doorway of the … Continue reading Chinese Boxes
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Balaclava
Balaclava by Chris Green The coach has just left the bus station. We are waiting at the lights when, through the back window, I catch a glimpse of a man in a balaclava, running through the crowd. He is waving a handgun around. He shouts out something. He fires shots indiscriminately at the passengers … Continue reading Balaclava
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