Mistaken

pang of jealousy
false alarm; it's not her man
the feeling was real

Tone Arm

The Weeping Song. The last song of the night. Time to go home. Home. Time to go. The record spins on the turntable. Focus. The only light is the light on the end of the tone arm, illuminating a minute circle of bobbing vinyl. This is the Weeping Song. He raises his glass. He looks at it closely. He examines it. Maybe it holds some kind of secret. Perhaps an answer to a question he hasn’t thought of. The contents are emerald, precious, glinting in that tiny light, the only light in the bar, the only light in the world.

How It Starts

Our mouths in congress
serpent tongue devouring me
from the inside out

Mike's Wedding

Chas was the best man.
At the reception
he asked the band to play
I Knew The Bride
When She Used To Rock And Roll.

He got punched.

It was that time of night.

O

He's there most nights.
A thousand miles
from the place they call 'home'.
(The meaning is changing -
it's a process he's working on)
His seat at the window.
The small glass:
he watches an ice cube
turn milky in alcohol.
The pouch of tobacco.
The piece of paper
and the pen.

Though far from inert,
he never reacts.
Not even when voices are raised
and fists pound on tables.

They don't annoy him.
They know he's in his element.

A Wee Fiction - One Day In The Life Of Derrick Mooney by Douglas Lloyd

Here's something by an old acquaintance of mine, Douglas Lloyd. Haven't seen him for years. According to his biog it was first published in 1989, in a magazine called Scottish Stories. Not available on the internet, unfortunately. However, the story has just been republished on the excellent McStorytellers site:

http://mcstorytellers.weebly.com/one-day-in-the-life-of-derrick-mooney.html

I think there's a definite Kelman influence. Either that or Slim Scotchboy. Maybe both.

Practical Criticism - Advice From Your Examiner

The pavement
outside the pub.
Look at him,
sitting there.
On his own.
Scribbling poems full of tears and pining
for women he has loved.
The pint of Guinness
at his elbow,
and a wee tumbler
of Macallan,
the ten-year-old,
much superior to the thirty.
Puffing on his fags
(he knows they are Bad,
but he's hooked).

He's an MA candidate's cliche come true.
Of course he is - look -
misogynist
racist
ageist
healthist
homophobic.

It's easy to find
now I've told you
what to look for.
It's easy to bend it.
It's easy to cheapen it.
It's easy to get a
good mark
in your exam.
Don't reflect.
Regurgitate -
please.
Original thought
is so much more difficult
to mark.

Astoria

Scrounge the coins

for a Nescafé.

You think
you look like Mickey Rourke?
Well, no.
The glamour in your life
comes from the Guardian
folded on your knee -
delivered by the
SAS.

Two days late.

Faded

picture of a girl
green ink on the envelope
words that meant nothing

A Wee Fiction - The Weird and Wonderful World of TEFL

I wrote a series of short pieces under the title 'The Weird and Wonderful World of TEFL #1 - #30'. Here's numbers one to ten, first published on Ink Sweat and Tears.

# 1

Sally got sacked for bringing stray dogs to class, although she swears it was because she refused to wear shoes.

To read numbers two to ten, go the the Ink Sweat and Tears site:
 
http://ink-sweat-and-tears.blogharbor.com/blog/_archives/2010/11/19/4683968.html