You may have noticed a few pieces of fiction appear at strange times of day on 35mmc recently. Quite possibly you wondered what the hell they were. I’d like to talk a little abo...
As was often the case, the Pipes Man had spent most of the morning smoking and creeping around places he probably shouldn’t be. However, it was rare he would be so well rewarded.
‘Can I take your picture?’ He had been thinking, recently, to try to be a better person. To approach and engage, rather than sneak and snatch at his shots. This wa...
The Pipes Man was fucking born to do it. The world’s forgotten boy; king of doing it. He just wasn’t doing it right now, and there wasn’t much to him aside. He was a flightless ...
‘That,’ the woman said. ‘Is absurd.’
She had looked alright from the back, with her braids and denim, but once she had turned around the Pipes Man immediately regretted approac...
Parallax. Pa-ra… Out loud he rolled it around his mouth: ‘Pawallax. Pawa-ra-llax.’ Something about lines, important to upright composition. Or getting everything in the right pl...
When thoughts grow dull and the eye calcifies, a little lubrication is required to keep the pipes from stiffening. With sticky valves he was having to puff harder which pushed t...
The Pipes Man limbered up to the corrugated barrier with wild eyes. What lay behind may be a fragment of what he had long left behind, but he pressed forward into it regard...