Byron Easy
It’s 24 December, 1999. Byron Easy, a poverty-stricken poet – half-cut and suicidal – sits on a stationary train at King’s Cross waiting to depart. In his lap is a bag containing his remaining worldly goods: an empty bottle of red wine, a few books, a handful of crumpled banknotes. He is on the run. Not from the usual writer''s trouble – money trouble, soul trouble – but special trouble, of a type...
It’s 24 December, 1999. Byron Easy, a poverty-stricken poet – half-cut and suicidal – sits on a stationary train at King’s Cross waiting to depart. In his lap is a bag containing his remaining worldly goods: an empty bottle of red wine, a few books, a handful of crumpled banknotes. He is on the run. Not from the usual writer''s trouble – money trouble, soul trouble – but special trouble, of a type...
