The ethnic mix, the 19th Century architecture, the potential.
Caribbean accents shouting over the sleepy neighbourhood.
A man, wearing his dreadlocks crammed into a woolen hat, screams at a lover. “Suck my dick you bitch!” his roadside companions say, “Chill man.” He ignores them, grabbing hold of his cock through his baggy jeans. “Go on, suck my fucking cock you fucking bitch.”
Every morning at sun rise I walk the dog through the fetid neighbourhood.
The once elegant streets, charming garden enclaves, Victorian arches to long abandoned mews. The beaux-arts flourishes and tatty pediments, the flaking eves and badly painted architrave in desperate need of wholesale renovation/conservation.
“This is the front line.” I hear a cocky young white boy say to his distressed looking girl.
The charming coffee shops and elegant restaurants are…
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