Ross

‘Gey dreich theday!’

‘When’s that ever stoapped us?’

We pull oan oor wellies — mine bricht reid, yours spreckled wae glitter — and see whur they tak us.

Knee-deip in a burn, powheid huntin. Slungin through sookin mud. Twa-fittit dub lowps.

We heid hame wae seelie grins, grey hair darkened fae smirr.

Written for the Scottish Book Trust’s 50 Word Fiction competition (“Wellies” November 2021)

‘Thur’s a dug in the gairden!’

A young pup. Hyper, excitit tae huv a freen. Nae collar. Nae owner doon the street.

‘Comin inside while we decide whit tae dae?’

Ah froze, gliskin oor cat at the windae — hiss readied, claws premptively extendit.

‘Oan secont thoats, better wait oot here.’

Written for the Scottish Book Trust’s 50 Word Fiction competition (“Puppy” October 2021)

Ah Googult ma surname an it turns oot it means ‘key bearer’. Ma ancestors cerried aboot castle keys fur aw the high heidyins. Clavigers, they cawed thum.

The Queen goat gied the keys tae Stirlin Castle the ither day. Ragin. Ah’m away doon tae Buckingham Palace tae claim ma birthricht.

Written for the Scottish Book Trust’s 50 Word Fiction competition (“Key” September 2021)

Thur wis still a cauldrife air quhen Montrose resortit tae chaulin the leather ae his gloves, finghers lang fundit and uselesse. It hud been a week syne the rout at Carbisdale and he wis sair hunger-bittin.

He wischt he’d worn his suskit auld shoes tae battle. Efter aw, a worn-doon bauchle is easier tae chawe than a new pair ae brogues.

Written as part of #Scotstober on Twitter (28th October 2021 — ‘bauchle’)

The funniest hing in the hale wurld wis when ye wur at school and ye wur supposed tae be quiet in class cause the teacher’s radge aboot sumhin and “disnae want tae hear a peep”, but as yer putting yer heid doon ye glisk yer pal’s ee — jist the corner ae it — and see the faintest ae smirks tugging at thur mooth, and then yer awiy, straight intae the danger zone, the laughter’s bubblin in yer tummy, frothin up, and soon it’s aboot tae overflow and yer panickin noo, so ye cover yer mooth, chirtin tae yersel silentlie, prayin it disnae turn intae a snirt or gauff, cause ye cannae get papped oot intae the corridor, no again, it wid be the third time this week!

Written as part of #Scotstober on Twitter (25th October 2021 — ‘glisk’)