I’VE GOT BEING WRONG DOWN TO AN ART
There was a time I wanted to live by the sea, the Mediterranean. Instead I found a place where the locals rake the coal-dust from black beaches.
There was a time I wanted to find a nice girl. Instead I married a promiscuous hellion.
There was a time I wanted a sensible car. Instead I built an insane Caterham Seven.
There was a time I didn’t want to be a banker anymore. Instead I became an alcoholic bum.
None of this is as bad as following the dawn tide onto a beach made black by coal.
Pieces of coal the size of grains of rice are left by longshore drift.
A layer of precious coal on sand, to be gathered painstakingly by hand.
It’s a hellish way to keep the home fires burning.
It’s a hellish difficult way to make a living.
words and picture by jack collier