by Lee Sutton

Setting:         Hospital Café, Hull, England

Time:             Day time, November 2009

Character:     TERRY, late 20’s, English

TERRY is sat eating a sandwich and reading a newspaper.


Smell don’t they? Not the sandwich; hospitals. Although, there is a very interesting odour coming from my BLT! Not been here since I broke my collar bone at school. Me n’ my mates use to play tag team wrestling on school field. You weren’t allowed to, of course, but to be honest prohibition was never the answer to controlling the inquisitive nature of the playground. The warnings on TV were no use either. They showed you a two-minute montage of your favourite wrestlers; slamming each other through tables, power bombing, choke slamming, applying deadly submission moves and right at the end they’d play that message:

“Please, don’t try this at home”. Fuck right off! That looks awesome!

There’s danger everywhere when you think about it. Front page of the paper again today: “Methadrone ‘legal high’ kills again!”

Fact is we don’t know that, do we? It’s speculation. Nobody wants to look into the facts because they’re afraid to find the things they’re blaming perhaps have nothing to do with the problem in the first place. Look all around you in this place, you see the real danger—smokers, drinkers, unavoidable diseases and then there’s my Mam.

Two days ago they brought her in. Three-thirty in the morning, Dad rings me, said she’d been suffering with pain in her stomach again. To be honest, I didn’t really have a clue what he was on about. I’d spent the previous eight hours pouring lager down my neck at a mate’s birthday party. I meet him at the hospital, pissed as a newt, and he’s disgusted with me.  Continue reading