Another Utter! work:

The harsh light of the early autumn sun illuminated the street, it reflected off the layers of hard glass and slick wet asphalt.

He stared and stared at me. His dark beady eyes expressing all the distaste he felt. Those beady eyes betrayed the truth his otherwise emotionless face his well.

So your dad and your uncle got jobs on the buses. Your dad was a driver. Look how smart in looked in his uniform, look at the bus he drove, elegant in its own way.

One more from the same session:

There were a lot of people around the train station. It was awful, it was busy. The noise from the excited chatter porters and the clatter of horses overfilled the air and my thoughts. I held father’s hand tight. We moved through the crowd. We were on our way to the fight. As we exited the station the street we joined a crowd of punters who were also on their way to the arena. Poorer folk like me and father had to walk from the station. I remember looking on in envy at the richer folk riding horse drawn carriages to the arena.

Jack Solomon was the promoter of the fight. The man was a legend. Jack always had the knack of obliging the best fighters to face off against each other. Jack Solomon fight cards always delivered on entertainment.

I was excited. It was my first time going to a bout. I didn’t know what to expect. It was cold even though  the autumn sun shone bright. The sky was clear of clouds, I looked up at father and smiled. He smiled back. Father had a thick bushy moustache and he looked like a grinning walrus. I felt warm again despite the chill