A young man of nineteen is rummaging
through his wallet, looking for his gym
pass. In amongst the receipts, chewing
gum wrappers and train tickets, he
finds a date-expired, unused rubber;
curry flavour. He’d bought it from a
vending machine on his sixteenth
Birthday. He holds it, he can feel it’s gone
dry and crusty. He’s still wearing too much
Lynx and the hair-gel is still slooping off
his head in wet-weather, V-Plates are
still very much intact, along with his
optimism. Never give up he thinks
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