: About Me

Swinley Street Osvaldo couldn't wait to get into the street. No sooner had he changed out of his uniform and idly whipped his jumper over the edge of his bed, had he jumped into fresh jeans and picked up his key ready to unlock his bicycle from the shed. Nicholas was waiting for him at the front door and it was a swelteringly hot summer's afternoon, the day promised to keep long into the evening over the longest equinox. The sky was untarnished with azure clarity and the sun blazed regally, smelting the streets in rich golden radiance. When Osvaldo opened the shed, a hot and dry oil and ru...