Hotel. Birmingham. 19.8.17. 03:17.am
Birmingham sleeps, its illuminated building works, a shadow jungle to trap the drunk and wary. Lost in the plastic and sodium labyrinth; infernal circles traced in brick dust, he … Continue reading
Hotel. Birmingham. 18.8.17. The Treachery of Mirrors
It’s stifling, even with the window open. The bloody workmen have woken me with drills and diggers with alarms that sound like they will break into ‘Jingle Bells.’ Every few … Continue reading
Hotel. Birmingham 19.8.17 (03:17am: I Am Insomnia’s Bitch)
Sitting by the threadbare curtains, looking over the illuminated building works, from the fourth floor, waiting for something interesting to happen. Birmingham sleeps, but a drunken Mancunian does not. … Continue reading
Hotel. Birmingham. 18.8.17. (The Treachery of Mirrors)
The first non-Kelvin based writing I’ve done in about seven months. Be gentle, I;m still not awake. Hotel. Birmingham. 18.8.17. (The Treachery of Mirrors) It’s 6:15 and … Continue reading
Will Vigar 
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