Thursday 18 March 2004

The summer of 1989 – the summer I turned sixteen – was one of the last truly, long, hot summer’s I can remember. Months stretched on after months of blazing sun, roasting temperatures and blue skies. In the early days…

a biography of me I’m fifteen and I’m sitting on the flint and brick wall outside the church, looking across the little roadway that leads to the beach. In my fingers are my pencil and rubber, and on my lap,…