Albion Falls, by Steve Harrison

“Which round you got Norman?”

“Albion Falls”

(A vertical smorgasbord of debt and smut: a social worker's casebook, but with a refurbished working lift)

“Bills and Giros and Ann Summers then?" 
“Not now Derek; it’s going up in the world; aspirational, post and parcels of a better class”.

Norm liked to play detective, cover the address on the mis-shaped packages and letters and guess the recipient from the shape, postage, sender and rattle of each.

It was a Monday so the extra eBay shopping would be pushing his bag to its constructivist limit.

He liked wearing the bag with its leather strap; felt like a cowboy with a saddle bag unleashed; no chaps and then the grey shorts spoiled the image, and so too the bracelet of elastic bands.

The rusting piss-stained lift had been cleaned and flowers decorated the balconies.

Gentrification was looked down on by some, but to a postie it couldn’t come soon enough.

Let the guessing games commence.

Mmm, Package anonymously addressed, should be Cynthia’s, number 4. He was sure he once saw a minor MP on the stairs avoiding the lift.

     Next; ‘Lakeland Artist materials’, not enough postage, that’ll be Jean number 7. He’d ignore the payment she owed and hope to squeeze it through the tattered letter box rather than having to face her poignant disappointment if he turned down the invite to tea and biscuits.

     Next ; tricky! ‘Argo Security Systems’, well packed; maybe number 2 checking on the neighbours; or crazy Gino trying to film the moving furniture. Gino; recipient of crucifixes, garlic bulbs and amethysts; sure that the lovely women next door had contrived to defy gravity and move his sofa. “What do you think of the crazy witches next door?” he’d been asked by Gino, while getting him to sign for the garlic or whatever was in the box marked ‘Bulbs: handle with care’

    Ms Lloyd Smithson and Miss Wright: recipients of post cards, seed catalogues and love film by post, so too busy to fulfil his demon fantasies. 
    Maybe he could swap a few letters and parcels “a-l’Amelie”, carefully chosen so lonely numbers could receive mistaken mail, He could give fate a nudge, like some god on high, and Jean would meet the lovely person in number 8 and have a subject for tea for tea and sympathy.