Sports and Social, my book of short stories will be published on Thursday, September 28th, 2023 by Bluemoose Books.
Join us at Dark Woods Coffee, West Slaithwaite Road, Huddersfield, HD7 6LS on Wednesday, September 27th for the launch: Free Tickets
London launch: Friday, October 6th at Trinity Chapel Brixton, 67 St Matthew's Lane, London, SW2 1NF: Free Tickets
For twenty-five years Kevin Boniface has been writing succinct descriptions of events and incidents that have taken place whilst out and about on his postal round, his daily route taking him from the main sorting office to the streets and outlying neighbourhoods above the town. In these commentaries and records nothing seems to be typical—engaged and disconnected conversations, the observed and the overheard—the everyday activity of life on the move.
Listening to speakerphone hip-hop
Kneeling on a crushed wine box to stack penne on the bottom shelf
Riding your e-bike along the country lanes in determined silence and lycra
Singing the Brentford Nylons advert at 6am
Remembering Steve Walton who used to work here: You know, his missus wore glasses
Painting rocks in the colours of the Indian flag
Loading a six foot long model of a gunboat onto a trailer, attaching it to your mobility scooter and driving around the estate because you like it to go out every now and again
Singing Ee bah gum can your belly touch your bum on the roof of the pub where Jill and Alan are welcoming new customers...
6.24am:
Green white and red vinyl banner approx 6’x1½’. Attached to park railings in Park Drive South with fourteen black cable ties through small brass eyelets. It reads “Learn to play croquet in Huddersfield” in a bold white sans serif, with details of courses and contact email address in smaller red text underneath.
6.29am:
The midges illuminated by the low sun appear as tiny airborne pin pricks of light. The four sided Victorian glass lamp on the park gates also appears to be illuminated but this is also a trick of the light from the low sun.
6.34am:
The trees on Castlegate Loop include cypress, common lime, some kind of large willow. From my position on the New North Road side of the flyover only the canopy is visible above the blue railings.
6.39am:
The slightly splay footed gait of the man walking ten metres in front of me on Southgate. He is wearing blue Nike trainers, a black North Face backpack, shorts, t-shirt, baseball cap — black. He is drinking from a cardboard carton with a short straw.
6.44am:
A white, long wheelbase, high top, 17 plate Ford Transit van. No livery. A set of long ladders on the roof. Parked in the yard at York House next to the small rotten wooden window with leaf pattern textured glass (Pilkington ‘Autumn’ design?) and an unusual bespoke iron grill.
I took a photograph on the hour every hour and captioned it with the first thing that was said to me after having done so.
7am: What are you doing now?
8am: This is crazy, fucking crazy.
9am: Yes*
*Bleary eyed and half swallowed. Accompanied by thumbs up.
10am: Sorry if you’ve been waiting a while, mate.
11am: Hi. Oh, right.
12 noon: Ta, love. See ya.
1pm: I’m in no hurry, I won’t be loading till last anyway.
2pm: I thought that was you then.
I took a photograph on the hour every hour and captioned it with the first thing that was said to me after having done so.
I took a photograph at half past the hour every hour and captioned it with the first thing that was said to me after having done so.
