FOREWORD:
RIDING WITH ANGELS
It is early; too early, to be tramping this drizzling grey. And after riding with Angels… Dirty, greasy, Outlaws.
For just a moment the dream was lucid, no longer an observer.
But as I came to realise this, I fell; Arthur Dent –like, screaming, flailing and desperately trying to be distracted.
Now there’s no way back to that lurid, beautiful dream.
Locked into an early hour eternity and destined to tramp the streets of a rain-soaked and dilapidated, charity-porn infested town in England.
With limping pigeons,
Gary the canal-side bodyguard
His bush-dwelling associate,
And, of course, the short-shorts champion: Mr Big Steps.
Main image from http://fiction61.blogspot.com.ar/2010/04/beautiful-california-landscape.html