Fractured Self News Today

 

An incarnation of chiaroscuro   ( blue (Austral. sl. ) argument, row) We rented behind a block of corner shops, rooms like gloomy cells one side of a narrow hallway abutting the next shop, parking space, entry, from a back lane. Beyond our kitchen’s locked door our landlord the butcher weighed chops, sausages, sexual innuendo, for women eking out housekeeping days. We heard cleaver thuds, saucy laughter. That summer we argued again, as the poor who toil for the dishonest do, heat, need, itch...