This blog is full of Wee Fictions (and poetry, too)
Wednesday, 11 August 2010
Paper Boys # 8
6.30am. The boss hadn't shown up. I went round to his house with 3. I rattled the letterbox. Eventually, he opened the door. 'Whit is it?' he said. His pyjamas were covered in wee teddy bears. 3 was pissing himself. 'Are you not coming to the shop?' I said. He appeared fifteen minutes later. Everybody was humming the tune off The Wombles. That Saturday, everybody's wages got docked. Mistakes.