Dot Tiles



Dot Tiles.

TEXT: David was a leaner. All day, he would lean, next to the till, surrounded by piles of fanzines and gig flyers. Posters hung  in the background, in the vibrant colours he liked the best. There were a variety of leans that David executed throughout the working day, so that his joints wouldn’t ache and so that the people walking past would notice a slight change in stance. At the current moment, David’s forearm was horizontal across the front desk, his backside sticking out, his head nodding to the latest Krautrock offering. Two customers had been in the shop this morning, one had bought a CD. He thought about changing the window display, probably tomorrow afternoon, when it was quiet.

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