In the early 2000s I had a close friend named Tyrell; he and I were about as different from each other as you could possibly imagine. For starters, Tyrell was black; I’m white. He grew up in Ventura, an hour and a half north of Los Angeles along the coast—where I was born—and I grew
There was a time, every evening around sunset, when the world seemed like a good place to live in. The other twenty-three and a half hours were what they were, but Rhonda lived for the time when the sun slipped lazily towards the horizon, making the TV aerials on the nearby rooftops and the razor
I don’t remember who first suggested it. I’d done some modelling when I finished school but that dried up pretty quickly. It was a Spanish brand and I never got to see the pictures, how I looked. Made a bit of cash, bought myself some wheels. Got a bit too big for my boots, Gary
