Leon de Marco
Outward appearanceSkinny young man, Italian pallor, 1960s pointed boots, brown leather jacket on coat-hanger shoulders, pink shirt with black bead patterns embroidered on it. Sits scrunched up against the section divider, legs crossed at ankles, face bitter with fatigue. Suddenly smiles gently at Passenger 121.
Inside informationLeon has been out all night. Lives on an estate on Hercules Road with his Mum. She will already have gone to work, leaving an anxious note to ring her.
What he is doing or thinkingRemembering last night. Went with his mates to Wet, a new club, and stayed til 5 am. Wet has a temporary swimming pool set up in it. Everyone strips down to their shorts, the girls take off their tops, it's cool, nobody gets hassled. It just so much fun to dance until you're sweaty, and then to swim. It was sexy but nobody got groped. Well not badly. They all just talked.
He can't remember what it was about, but it was light and heavy at the same time: stars, the beginning of the universe, how good everybody looked. And don't swallow the water.
Then out, feeling glossy, cool, fresh. On to the caff by the market for coffee and donuts. They loved each other, at least when they said goodnight, see ya, with the birds beginning to sing in the trees.
He wishes he could hold it in place, build some kind of monument to it. The train slows at Lambeth North and he moves towards the pigeon. "Come on little pigeon, go on home," he says.
Car 4 map