Ashley Lazlo

Since childhood I have held dreams inside me, often for years but, in truth, somehow they never seemed to slip out into real life — at least that was until the day I saw her on the train. Let me tell you more…I had worked late in the office one evening to finish a report and my manager gave me a mid-week day off as reward. Rather than sit alone in my apartment on a rainy nearly spring day I took a train to Saltash Art Museum - the 09:47 in order to avoid rush hour. I had the carriage to myself until Sutton-on-Water when a woman opened the door and sat on the opposite side of the carriage with her back to the direction of travel.  Over the top of my book my eyes greedily took her in from her shiny shoulder length hair to the heels she wore. In my head I imagined she was a successful professional in some unimaginable field like computers or fashion. The train was ten minutes out of Sutton-on-Water when she stood and took off her winter coat revealing an unseasonable summer dress. She car

  I was sitting in a booth at TeaEmporium — one of those trendy tea shops up west that thinks it doesn’t even need ‘the’ before its name on the sign and where a pot of tea costs more than I once earnt in a day. When Rebecca arrived I was still reading The Telegraph, I had picked it up to read on the tube but the article I was interested in was spread over a couple of inside pages, a series of burglaries that had taken place over the past few months where just one diamond was stolen per burglary. Nothing more, nothing less. The thief had been  rather unimaginatively named The London Diamond Burglar…more a job description rather than a name in my opinion.  As I’m not that good with folding a broadsheet I waited until I had arrived at TeaEmporium knowing full well I was early and Rebecca would be on-time to the second giving me plenty of time for reading and preloading her bill with a pan roasted Oolong. As Rebecca arrived I was still wrestling and swearing at the newspaper, I have t

He was walking along the street when I spotted him for the first time, it was morning rush hour on a typical warm sunny July day.  City centre sidewalks were full of commuters and plenty wore a knee length summer dress, strappy sandals, little shoulder bag and a deceiving no make-up look as was the seasons fashion which added up to a real a cute look as the office workers hurried  along carrying their coffees. Pale floral knee length summer dress apart Man in a Dress had a much more individual look, one all of his own. ———//——— I had been sitting in the JobCentre waiting area a few minutes when Man in a Dress took a number from the ticket machine then sat in a seat a row in-front of me. From my seat I had a clear yet oblique view of Man in a Dress and like a French fashion critic I examined him in more detail; thirty-six hour shadow, number 4 possibly 5 buzzcut, mens Adidas classics, black ankle socks. Clearly visible through the thin summer dress material were his striped boxers and a

  “New Old Stock” the shopping site listing said. I had owned and loved one just like it years ago, worn it at every opportunity until purge day…sorry I’m getting ahead of myself. I’ll start over at the beginning. I remember my first purge as if it were only yesterday rather than a half-lifetime ago. I remember putting every item of clothing in the black trash bag along with my shoes. All of the things I had built up over the years since getting my own apartment went in that bag. I even watched as they threw my trash bag into the back of the refuse truck. I won’t say if I shed a tear but it did feel like watching a friends coffin descending into the grave as my clothes disappeared into the truck. The decision had seemed right at the time, well of course it did, I was young and Elizabeth and I were in love. Putting my days of sneaking around in women’s clothes behind me was the right thing to do for us, a small price to pay for a life together. Things were different back then, the g