As was often the case, the Pipes Man had spent most of the morning smoking and creeping around places he probably shouldn’t be. However, it was rare he would be so well rewarded.
Upon reaching the roof, he was presented with a composition of decayed textures and patterned fabrics – the juxtaposition, the light, the romance of urban nostalgia: exquisite!
As they fluttered delicately in the breeze, the Pipes Man danced between socks, found ‘striking’ angles at will among cotton pyjamas, and vigorously extended limbs to fire off short bursts at stripey underpants whilst gulping down air to replenish the bellows.
‘Pretty sweet,’ said Gadget.
In the moment, all previous failures vanished. Going in for a close-up, the glowing dog-end on his bottom lip almost burned through the crotch of a pair of faded blue boxers, but it was all good.
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