Day for Night

tea

‘Can I take you anywhere?’ my driver asked; a young man, with perfect English and an Irish name, Sean. I could read the back of his head: Handbags, shoes, furs. ‘Kurffurstendamm. Like your Bond street?’ He said, looking over his shoulder at me. He was about eighteen; a son, not a driver.‘Tea-bags,’ I said. ‘Fresh … Read more