Thursday, January 03, 2008

Outsider Trading



Harold raises his hand and the woman on the other side of the block of masonry pauses, grimacing as she holds the weight steady. “Can I just have a breather?” he asks, balancing one corner of the statue on the balustrade and wiping his sleeve across his brow, “we’ve humped it up three flights so far.” She glares at him and nods, locking her joints to take the extra strain. He winks as he takes the weight again and shuffles backwards up the next flight. “St Just’s won’t miss a gargoyle,” he says, “the whole church is being pulled down to make room for a shopping precinct.” He chuckles at the silent question made by her lifted eyebrows: “When I authorize the plans.”

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