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Short story: <i>Hog</i>

The old man. In the corner, all the sure signs of a consumate smoker painted plain as fragile grey skin on his face, sipping a beer and looking hangdog and blank at the same time.

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Short story: <i>The Writer</i>

He was a cool customer, with his strut, his dark oblong glasses, his shaggy fringe, his pilled charcoal beret.

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