The Standalones

Chapter Thirty-Four

Ken Preston

1 July 2024

Silhouette of a rock band against a spotlight and the words The Standalones

There was something he was supposed to be doing. Something important. Someone was coming to visit, and he had to get ready. He struggled to think, to connect the thoughts floating around in his head, but a thick fog obscured everything and made it difficult to concentrate.

Why did he have to get ready for visitors? What was he supposed to do, run a Hoover through the place? Get out the duster and the polish?

Danny Lamb never had visitors, and even if he did, he wasn’t going to dust and vacuum. That there, that was a woman’s job. That stupid punk girl Lexi could do the tidying up. After all, she owed him a ton of money for rent. She would get the place ready for the visitors.

Danny scrunched up his face as he worked hard at putting his thoughts together. Thinking wasn’t one of Danny Lamb’s strong points, but it wasn’t usually this difficult. Why was that?

Wait a minute…

He remembered now. All day he’d been suffering with a killer hangover. That was why he was struggling more than usual today at this thinking lark.

Danny opened his eyes. Hot needles no longer pierced his skull, and his stomach wasn’t trying to crawl out of his throat. Danny gazed at the cigarette yellowed ceiling and realised he was feeling better.



Danny sat up in his bed. “Fred!”

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