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Danger: Void Behind Door

Writing by Matt Haynes

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The World Comes To Deptford

Danger: Void Behind Door

The world’s largest cruise liner visits Deptford but refuses to tell anyone.

Henry’s Plinth

Danger: Void Behind Door

Henry Moore’s sculpture returns to Greenwich Park just after I’ve made lots of fuss about nothing to impress a French girl.

We Need To Talk About Neddy

Danger: Void Behind Door

A five-year-old labrador that was swept up in the excitement of the 2011 London riots lives to regret looting Primark.

Feminist Pelicans

Danger: Void Behind Door

Some thoughts on the sexual politics of pedestrian-controlled traffic lights and why Brussels fills me with horror.

A Miscellany of Despair

Danger: Void Behind Door

How the National Maritime Museum is providing new opportunities for French people to shrug and go “bof”.

And What’s With The Big Boat?

Danger: Void Behind Door

Is transpontine mating safe, or is the unholy union of a Bethnal Green girl and a Bermondsey boy likely to produce some sterile mule-like creature, useful only as a beast of burden or underworld goon?

Anti-Zizzi, Anti-Pasti

Danger: Void Behind Door

Protests regarding the plethora of new chain restaurants at Greenwich pierhead stall when fossil records show that chickens first emerged on the small Greek island of Nandos.

The Unbelievable Niceness of Penge

Danger: Void Behind Door

How only Penge Homebase, out of all south-east London’s DIY superstores, seems to have grasped that Christmas is an annual event.

The Spherical Love of French Teenagers

Danger: Void Behind Door

An unwelcome discovery on the meridian line makes me question whether padlocks have any role in a loving relationship.

London Prepares

Danger: Void Behind Door

The 2011 London riots: while Tottenham is in flames, Chipping Norton is in Oxfordshire.

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Sifted by Ilk

  • Fiction
  • Non-Fiction
  • London
  • South East London
  • London in 30 Words
  • Smoke A London Peculiar
  • Transport
  • Politics
  • Poems and Parodies

“I will always love you,” he bellows as he wheels his cleaning cart down Gresham Street, trousers too short, grey hair almost gone, iPod clearly turned up to the max.

Serendipity Doo-Dahs

Jonathan, David, Carol and Me

Why David Beckham is a true gent, Jonathan Ross can do no wrong, and Carol Thatcher will be getting her rice and peas delivered by Ocado in future.

Approval

The man at the neighbouring checkout was looking at her with something that might have been curiosity and might have been pity. Her cheeks prickled. It was years since she’d needed to tell the difference.

I Was Just Trying To Be Nice

Across the road is a nail salon, then a jeweller’s, a florist’s, and – I stare at the words above the next doorway: Divine Money, Financial Services. Why is that so familiar? Obviously it’s the sort of name you remember, but – where would I be remembering it from?

A Higher Evil

Are independent bookshops their own worst enemy, or just my own worst enemy?

The Beer Goes In The Pub

Castration deemed not suitable treatment for 4x4 drivers as smallness of genitalia makes operation too fiddly.

Kensal Rise, Early In The Morning

A driver on the last remaining Routemaster service, the 159 from Marble Arch to Streatham, reflects on the relative inflexibility of women and buses.

Threnody on the Suicide of a Parking Meter in Dagenham Brook, E10

O dark devourer of the driver’s coin,
what broken dreams was this leap meant to fix?
What hope-denuded skyline did enjoin
you to cast off on this East London Styx?

Ales of the Riverbank

A riparian pub crawl in which Chelsea midfielder John Obi Mikel is mistaken for Jedi master Obi-Wan Kenobi outside the Waterside in Chelsea Harbour but luckily a goose arrives and causes a diversion before it all kicks off.

Going Back To Old Kent Road

How Monopoly stifles the very instincts that should engender success by insisting council planning departments impose draconian building regulations that allow for the construction of nothing but small green houses or big red hotels.

The Twelve Days of Smoke

Partridges? In London? Sorry, guv. Do you a nice pigeon, though. Sorry it's a bit wet.

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