The air is crisp, the sky a dirty blue, and the city of Manchester sleeps - a slumbering troll of granite, glass and humanity. Trev walks across the quiet cobbles of the city’s Northern Quarter, with his earphones jammed in and his collar up tight. He is on the happier side of 30 but at this early hour looks like an unsettling cocktail of insomnia and zombie. The Northern Quarter is Manchester’s miniature New York city - part homage, part kiddy version. Trev likes it there and he crosses the road to his flat on Church Street. He uses the key fob to open the door, which responds immediately with a soft beep and the click of a lock somewhere. He checks for post in the metal mail lockers opposite the door - this time more out of habit than anything. He knows there’d be no post at this unsociable hour. Along the hall from the lockers, he calls the lift, which was luckily already resting on the ground floor. It lets him in immediately. Inside, he selects the 5th floor and leans against the wall, letting out a deep sigh.
What do You think about Ben Bracken: Origins (Ben Bracken Books 1 - 5)?
