The Clerkenwell Kid

Like snapshots of another world. A friend of mine recently linked me to this blog. The author’s short stories, while some are a bit melancholy, are really amazing reads. I meandered around the site trying to find out a bit more about him, and apparently he’s a musician, and if you look hard enough there is a link to his myspace where you can listen to some of his music. While it’s a bit too morose for my taste, it’s still quite beautiful and some of it hints at vintage 40s jazz. The stories are like the music. They’re rather surreal glimpses at a uchronian world that has a very 1940s feel. Short and sweet and beginning in medias res without any background or resolution, like the passing window into a life which one sometimes catches in a photograph of a stranger. The stories are just that. Short snippets. They give one the impression of looking at pictures of some life in a world that never was.