Fists break bones. Attention breaks liars.
Meet Vincent Carrigan. He carries olives in a bag. He feeds stray cats. He never fires a gun. He wins by looking.
His father was a man of sayings. Vincent still hears them.
Vincent’s olives
Green olives, cracked, in brine, with lemon and a sprig of dry thyme. He carries them in a small bag with a zip, and he never wastes one.
Buy Vincent’s olives[If this is an affiliate link: “If you buy through this link, I may earn a small commission.” Delete this line if not.]
The van
Seven metres of white coachbuilt on a Peugeot cab. Six years old when the story starts. It has been through snow in the Pyrenees, a flood outside Valencia, and a night in Bavaria so cold the pipes froze. It has never let him down.
A kettle that is always on. A radio on a shelf. An awning that he never puts out. It is the only home he has.
[The real van is my own. Add a few lines here after 26 December: what it is, where it has been, and which scenes happened where.]
Vincent’s radio
Vincent leaves the radio on, low, behind a drawn blind. These are the songs I think it played.
Play it on Spotify- [Song] by [artist][One line: the scene or the mood]
- [Song] by [artist][One line: the scene or the mood]
- [Song] by [artist][One line: the scene or the mood]
- [Song] by [artist][One line: the scene or the mood]
- [Song] by [artist][One line: the scene or the mood]
Travelling copies
Some paperbacks are on the road. I leave them on campsite book-swap shelves. Each one has a note inside: read it, leave it at your next stop, and tell me where it is.
Found one? Send me a message with the copy number and where you left it.
- Copy 1[Campsite or aire, town, country], [month]
- Copy 2[Campsite or aire, town, country], [month]
- Copy 3[Campsite or aire, town, country], [month]