Tonight, a strong man died in Belfast.
We had been on the site for three days. Day one, up went the big tent. The rigging, lights, safety nets and everything else that goes into putting on ‘the show’. Day two, the dress rehearsal and an opportunity for those of us who needed it, to get clean. A chance for those of us who needed it, to score. Day three was opening night. We were set up on the outskirts of Andersonstown. Out of the way, on a plot of land that had been raised to the ground under the promise of social philanthropy only for the plans to cool and the memories to fade. Now it’s little more than uneven concrete and free parking. That’s how Mal got it for the week for so cheap. It should have been a risk this far out, but people are the same everywhere. You put enough curiosities in one place and they’ll come out of wherever they’re held up to look at them.
Continue reading “Andytown by David Louden”
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