The Last Days of the Cross

Part 3 of 6 by Joseph Ridgwell

Within seconds she had swept past me, but I kept an eye on her until she disappeared out of sight. Then I pulled my notebook out of my shirt pocket and wrote down a quick description. Another subject for my poetry, I ruminated, another muse, the teenage aboriginal smack head with the blue eyes. I could easily write a thousand poems about that one girl, fifty alone on the eyes, I was sure of it. God what a dream, an aboriginal dream, but a dream none the less. I thought about those long dusky legs, her crazy blues eyes, her breasts, easily a handful, and the ripped fishnet stockings and it was too much.


Joseph Ridgwell grew up in the East End of London and left school with few qualifications. He then embarked on a succession of menial jobs. After being stabbed in a bar brawl and getting robbed at knifepoint he decided it was time to leave the country and promptly travelled the world. He returned to London in 2001 where he lives and writes to this day. The Last Days of the Cross is excerpted from his latest novel. Look for Part 4 on Saturday, April 7th.