Bop - descriptions and back story - all copyright remains with Isobel Harris aka Jezabel

It ran deep and cold beneathe the surface of Brixton. No longer able to mark its way gracefully over the meadows, but orced beneath and between tunnels before reaching the Thames. Only a moment quick enough for Bop to see offers an exit way above. He hops out of the leaf just before it is swilled left and away, gone, out of sight.

His climb is rough, but his hands are rougher. The walls are slick with more than 200 years of grime. But Bop uses this to slick his hair back. His pores too small to absorb any of the hell washed down from Crystal Palace. He looks down sorrowfully at the water, the Effras spirit caught tight in this chasm. He allows his thoughts to flee for a moment to the surface, where the water used to run with him aboard ready to take on the day. Youth, what a whimsical time. Bop smiles at the irony in his thought, showing his teeth slightly s his ears wobble.

Brockwell Park sits amongst three very different areas of South London. Boasting of once grand gardens that John Blades Esq had wandered in when she was still a part of leafy surrey. Now her land is hemmed in by Brixton, Tulse Hil and Herne Hill. All very much a part of Londons digestive system. The humans recreate and exercise in the park, they dance and make money in the park, the cook themselves and fornicate in the park. They bleed and piss on her grass after consuming rage and other bizzare chemicals far from unknown to Bop. The edges have crept into each other faster than Bops 18th birthday. Urban sprawl out weighing natures battle each time. Bop of course does not live in a way that adheres to our calendar. His 18 years make him more like 3549 years old. Thats right older than jesus. But he is small and he is tendered by mother earth to work the surrounding areas of the Effra river. The very same river that once ran down from Crystal Palace, along Effra Eoad across Brixton and out to the Thames.

Bops daily life has changed much since his parents time. Though his father still works hard in what is now the Reigate area.

At this juncture I should explain that Bop is a Pixie, the Brixton Pixie (I have introduced him before in a poem).

At this moment I am unsure just how involved with Londons darker side I intend to be. Bop may be more suited to a younger generation of reader.

However. He has a lot of work to do. A pixie must help keep a certain amount of love, hope and natural energy in an area. Of course humans have made their job considerably harder and Bop being a young pixie is more innovative that his elders. He has opened communication with domesticated animals in a bid to get help keeping the young humans happy so that thy dont do as much damage as their predecessors.