Fragments Chapter 11 Page 11

swollen hands and it all feels good. You never want to see a roll of sellotape, a thumb tack or even your beloved poster ever again. Your hands would trouble the most gifted palm reader. So many paper cuts seeming to chart a whole different destiny.

Your phone is ringing- its dark, your feet are wet and your place is quiet. Achingly you reach for the ringing phone, the only light in the

place, and see the name on the display Peter Barry-SHIT. Well it just says Peter Barry but really, like, SHIT! You’ve never spoken directly to him, you just got his number off of someone on your travels. He single-handedly brought Stand Up Comedy to this town some twenty years ago. You’ve been meaning to call him for advice and introductions and now he’s ringing you.