Published 'Eldritch Tales' 1994

THE CHIMNEY-CORNER within which I guessed the drunk locals lolled was much more than the expression usually embraced. Such nor­mal corners were full of smoke and senseless pub talk; at least those that people invented by Dickens may have frequented. But this one was tantamount to a separate room: a snug for midgets, walled-up within the elbow of the chim­ney-breast.

I was accustomed to visiting that hostelry quite regularly, stepping out through the clammy London smog like a fine gentleman, only too pleased to reach the bar counter and rub shoulders with the low life forms that were propped up thereabouts. I did wonder at the mystery of the snug built into the corner - I imagined the raging log fire in the adjacent hearth must've made it hot­ter than a pig-oven in there. The steamy goggle-eyed glass in the small hatch of a door gave no hint as to the likes of the hard regulars ensconced within.

One day, with the smog slowly set­tling upon the river, but leaving the streets relatively clearer for once, I decided that this day would be one for discoveries. If a new-born babe could master such thoughts, I could easily imagine its nativity being such a day. There! The public house was called the Palmer's Way - its sign swung slowly in the renascent breeze, blurred but, for once, discernible. Once inside the saloon, I was astonished to find it full of complete strangers: no hide nor hair of locals. Perhaps the usual topers were all squashed swigging in the chimney-cor­ner, I thought; except, upon looking, there was no fireplace in view: indeed no chimney, not even a sooty stain on the floorboards. The nearest to an alcove was on the other side of the saloon, the dark shapes heaving within it I guessed being loving couples on the snog.

Leaving the Palmer's Way in my cups, I discovered that the city was no clearer to my eyes - even though a new­born sun was sparkling off the river waters. I sang a song about snogging and swigging in the snug, but that soon died to a whimper on my lips when I saw Charles Dickens himself swagger­ing by.