My grandad tells me stories of industry, miners and protest as I drift off to sleep. His stories are hazy and warm, his own little fairy tales that have me dreaming of state violence. In the morning he makes me breakfast and drops me off at ballet on Parson Cross. I know he will be asleep in the car waiting for me. I wonder what his dreams look like, I wonder if that dream still lives on.

35mm Film. Orgreave, South Yorkshire. A project supported by The Art House and The Hepworth Wakefield.