I Have No Cupboards


Thursday would rock around and we'd all go have a few drinks before heading out. I can't really remember why, but this time Old Steve'd been invited and we waited for maybe an hour or so before he actually arrived. I suppose we'd all envisaged that we all would've liked to have had left a bit earlier, some time before Steve had arrived because there are these twilight hours between 2 and 4am when the night seems to feel at its stillest and all the windows and side gates seem to cooperate that much more easily, as if they too are in their deepest state of rest at such a time. Overshoot this short opening and one risks the ebbing wake of an angry orange sunrise that would stir your victims, and going too early would find you breaking into someone's house while the possessor of the property was still awake.

It appeared this time we'd be running the former risk. We'd all had too much to drink because we'd continued drinking from waiting so long, and we all piled into Old Steve's car. The car still had its plates on, and no-one could sit in the front because Steve refused to move this almighty steel cylinder that was resting on the front passenger seat. I still maintain it was a nuke because Old Steve is actually that senile. That and you could drive around here with a dead body in the passenger seat of a car in rush hour (okay, maybe not so close to the city) and have no-one stop you.

So we drove around with the nuke...