barry

Brixton memory §1.

The kitchen contains a fridge whose smell is so fearful it can never be opened. The kitchen is a formica hellhole. It belongs to the unterworld. Barry has taken to living in the kitchen. He has a dirty beard and wears dirty clothes. He drinks dirty cans and he too smells of dirt. Barry sits in the kitchen and his words echo up the stairs and through the house. The words are always the same. They are: Fucking Fuck. Fucking Fuck. Fucking Fuck. Barry doesn't talk to you. He repeats his mantra at you. There is something more than disqueiting about Barry. There's something so depressing you don't want to think about it. But you can't help it. You go to bed and his words rise through the floorboards. He never sleeps. He's always there. He always will be. He's Barry.