How Green Was My Lovely Big Sleep
by Colin Garrow
It was a classic pea-souper, thick with the stink of the Tyne and as sticky as an athlete's armpit. I wanted to go home, relax, tune into Channel 69 and open a beer, but something caught my eye through the gloom. Ordinarily, I'd have told Pussy Hideaway to go and lose herself, but I was behind with the rent...