Jah Rastafari

I go up Portobello Road for a quick drawing hit. Kili is drinking and smoking sociably under the Westway.

Kili

I shake my fixative spray too vigorously and the sea-green glass beads of my bracelet scatter. I gather up the ones I find. Gather. Last night I overheard this in the Army and Navy Club:
'Are your parents still alive?'
'No, they're gathered.'