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	<title>The Beat &#187; Steve Finbow</title>
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	<description>A poetry, short story and art showcase.</description>
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		<title>When We Were Alone</title>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 30 Dec 2010 11:15:05 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Steve Finbow</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Short Story]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[The knock on the door comes at just after midnight. Hour of the rat. I hadn’t had chance to dream. Snore still low and soupy. Cars going by the window paint fingerprints on the ceiling. My book rests on my chest, the pillows behind me already ruckled and damp from night sweats. The blankets and [...]]]></description>
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		<title>The Spillway</title>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 20 Mar 2008 12:56:14 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Steve Finbow</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[I’ve been doing it for donkey’s years but this time I’ve got it wrong. Eat it up, she used to say, or you’ll remember what you’ve left while you’re lying in your deathbed. Waiting for hours on this bloody roof with nothing to eat, nothing to drink, and nothing to piss in. Not a sausage [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Two Figures in the Grass</title>
		<link>http://the-beat.co.uk/two-figures-in-the-grass/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 06 Mar 2006 18:06:39 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Steve Finbow</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Wo izzi’ you wan? Eh? Orwayz on me bleedin’ case you are. I ain’t seen nuffin like it. Nuffin. Wot dya want, eh? I mean, ya nuffin, righ’. Nuffin. Not the skin off the bo’om of me feet. Not the snot from me beak. Not no one. Nuffin. Wot ya wanna do go comin’ arahnd [...]]]></description>
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		<title>The Wading Pool</title>
		<link>http://the-beat.co.uk/the-wading-pool/</link>
		<comments>http://the-beat.co.uk/the-wading-pool/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 20 Aug 2005 06:45:35 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Steve Finbow</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Short Story]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[It was the day after mother burned the Christmas presents; I had looked out of the window at the snow and at a grey smudge on the snow the size of an inflatable wading pool. Mother was raking through the ashes and picking out smouldering lumps. At the edge of the smudge, I could just [...]]]></description>
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		<title>Domestics</title>
		<link>http://the-beat.co.uk/domestics/</link>
		<comments>http://the-beat.co.uk/domestics/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 17 Jan 2005 17:11:19 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Steve Finbow</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Short Story]]></category>
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		<description><![CDATA[She laughs like an ex-girlfriend of mine and some of her mannerisms are like those of my mother – the twitch of her mouth to show displeasure, the wrinkle of her nose to show disdain – but these are not the reasons I despise her. Think of all the things. And I do. I think [...]]]></description>
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