Steve Gray
by Steve Gray Previous episode Chloe called Sally, ‘Things are a bit strange around here at the moment, there’s been a bunch of people walk in and check out our kids books, now that’s a good thing, but more people than usual.’ Sally said ‘Yay! The more customers
Steve Gray
by Steve Gray The whole street had stories, customers who were fabulous and others who were not so hot. Some of the shops felt that bad customers came when the moon was full, and some held the theory that those shops were noticing irritable customers at that time. Penny at
Steve Gray
by Steve Gray Previous episode It’s one of those average mornings, the weather is overcast and it’s been drizzly, that late Autumn feel that sometimes makes people miserable, with lots of people anticipating the oncoming winter season. They are not ready for it yet so they stay at
Steve Gray
by Steve Gray Previous Episode Next Episode Gail from the Accountants is going through a quiet time of the year at her practice, she loves the area, the range of shops and so on and most of the proprietors. She’s thinking of doing a get-together. A chance to
Steve Gray
by Steve Gray Previous Episode Saturday In Hill Street, a few doors up from the shops, there’s a young family, Mum, Jo Graham and Dad Mike, with two young kids who are livewires, Tito (7-year-old) and Rosa (6-year-old). It’s mid Saturday morning, and the
Steve Gray
by Steve Gray An eclectic set of shops set in ‘downtown anywhere Melbourne suburbs.’ It’s a ‘T’ intersection with a mix of older and odd shops that have quaint appeal. Over the years, properties have been cleared out to provide parking for staff and customers, as well as parking
Steve Gray
by Steve Gray Chapter one The air inside Sally's Bookstore was not merely still; it was deeply sedimented, a fragrant blend of aged paper, desiccated cedar, and the subtle, sharp tang of binding glue. Sunlight, filtered through the small, square-paned windows facing the cobbled side alley, fracturing
Steve Gray
by Steve Gray He could sit for hours, though the hours often bled into days, measured only by the shifting weight of the sun across the room and floorboards. He’d sit and wait, a quiet observer wallowing in the honeyed gentleness of the light. Outside the glass, a riot
I lived off easey street
I lived off easey street
I lived off easey street
I lived off easey street
By Steve Gray Hold on! Have you read the previous chapters? It was a usual kind of a day, things were ticking over and in the door a lady wandered in, professionally presented and with a nice smile. Her face was familiar to me but I wasn’t sure where