WORDS: DANIEL FINCH
MY TRAIN ARRIVES at York at 6.25pm on Wednesday, 24 May. I walk from the station to the local Waterstones bookshop, past the castle to the Minster. In the shop I am greeted by an assistant, who swiftly reveals himself to be the future of gay.
To the straight eye, Andy might just be another bookseller. But we know better. When you are a middle-aged gay, you recognise the future of gay not just from its disposition but the fantastically open signals it sends out.