Narrow streets

Randy's mention of narrow streets in his postcard ties in with a photo I received not long ago of an alleyway. I remember very clearly being VERY scared of walking down it. At the end there was a zinc fence that made your footsteps echo in a metallic way: the same way the wind whistled spookily out of the old bath overflow on Vosene-infused hair-washing nights. The faster my little five year old legs ran down this alleyway, the faster I imagined myself being sucked down down into some kind of hollow hell.