The Costa Pool Bums

Alan Warner

I‘d flown back into Gatwick airport on a usual red-eye charter. A slimy morning sunlight was crawling over the docked night aircraft as I stepped along glass-walled walkways. It was at the Village Inn that I first hooked up with Eisin Park who was to change my life. Like me he was alone, like me, …

After Caravaggio's Sacrifice of Isaac
The Balance