Stars
Back then his best mate shut him in the coal-hole. For a dare or a joke or just because it was flaming well there.
Doyle had chewed his knuckles, yelled abuse. He’d emerged smoky-faced, heart hammering under cover of a cocky smile. Gave his former best mate the juiciest black eye.
These days random injustices came in deeper, blacker pits. With shackled wrists and taped up mouths, him and his best mate both in it up to their necks.
But that was then and this is now.
The flashing beacon of Bodie’s eyes, endless hope in a night without stars.