Big Bottle of HP in Chelsea

Nine Elms was open, concrete and cold. Sellers counting coins like stories told.

Cameras, cables, boxes in rows. Steam from cups as the river flows.

I was looking for cameras, old and clean. Left with photo scanners,

box machines. Perfect kit, nearly ready to play. Just needed a power

supply. Most days you take what's nearly right. Carry it forward into the light.

Then we drove to McDonald's in Chelsea. Sunday morning, slow and plain. That's where I saw

him with a bottle of HP. Not a satchel shot but large one made. Set it down like

it belonged there. No joke, no glance, no self-aware. Brown sauce ready