Brighton Scenes #1*

St James’s Street. On my way home. About 11pm. A tall transvestite in a ginger wig with a thick belt round a long jumper is strutting along. She looks like Donna Noble.

A group of three twittering, bickering discobunny gay lads are walking the other way, towards her. One of them spots her and smirks and shouts:


Donna stops. In her heels she’s much taller than they are. She looks at them with disdain and flares her nostrils.

‘Fuck off, Davros,” she says with venom. The boys walk on, silently now. Chastened.

*An occasional sketch of things I see and hear around the City by the Sea.

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