New York Not Out

The streets of New York. The wastelands. The home of the gangs with no hope, no future, no thoughts other than those of the next brawl. The next death on the street and who cares? Almost certainly not Charlton, a hopeless English bum who washes dishes and drinks his miserable wages in Cooksey’s bar. Before crawling back into the gutters of the wastelands. But the sun also rises. Both for Charlton and the gangs. And the sun, oddly enough, is called cricket.