No crowds, just directionless pointed shoes.
- and slippy eyes fixed on glassy oil pavements -
...and the bubble gum smell of illegal cheap drink.
It's the stripped down high of cracked Sunday morning shoes found in the stolen box by the closed shop.
- and the greasy thin blue sky spitting light on the planked up corner shopfront.
- all make believe smiles that shadow the closed shuttered room...
... in the service of nervous separation from the paperless faces of authority ...
High Street
Walking Notes
Steve Coel
High Street
Walking Notes
Steve Coel
Walking Notes
Steve Coel
An 11.59 Publication
