Finding Banksy
an excerpt
“Look low to the pavement after you pass the Jugged Hare,” the man at the corner of Aldersgate said, and he was right.
Up the block from the Jugged Hare Pub, Banksy’s indignant rat held up a sign at ground level, painted over to say “I (heart) London Robbo” – a record of Banksy’s feud with his late rival Robbo, because the original said “London doesn’t work.”
Michael crouched to the pavement. He snapped it as a double-decker bus drove by. Perfect combination for the feed.
Joanna caught up with him at last. “There you go,” she said. “Another Iconic London post. Are you finally getting your likes?”
“Hang on – I need one for Jake.”
Michael took out his phone, checked for messages, then snapped the photo for Jake, who was in a Banksy phase since he discovered that quixotic little conspiracy theory. Michael welcomed anything that kept his son texting across the Atlantic.
