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Legend Tripping

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  1. Most of the children of Carlin High School were engaged in the usual playground activities, girl gossiped rapidly sounding like a thousand busy typewriters; youthful first years laughed and chas ed each other around the yard, burning off energy; older kids from the rough end of town hid behi nd the toilets, smoking weed. Steven was sitting alone, perched on the fence like a hawk, watching all the normal mayhem when he spotted Simon Anderson take a nosedive onto the concrete. The boy just went white and dropped, and even though the other kids were making a godawful din, Steven definitely heard Simon’s skull crack like a heavy egg as it smashed onto the ground. The noise was a sickening, hollow sound that made his heart jump in his chest. He immediately jumped off the fence and rushed to see if the older boy was alright. In the seconds it took him to move to where Simon was, there was a large crowd around Simon, some girls were screaming, an older boy was shouting, “Get a tea

The Unbearable Truth

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Image by Yesudeep Managlapilly.  This work is licensed under (CC by SA 4.0) Another damp greylight gloom was dissolved by rain into black and sodium orange dusk. Out of the night Jamesie comes walking, a sixty-six year old swagger in ill-fitting jeans. The truth is Jamesie’s a lad, a chancer, a bit of a rogue, a cocky bugger, a cheeky chappie. He walks down the dismal road, deftly avoiding the discarded needles, pigeon remains and oil-slick puddles. A grin stretches across his nicotine-tanned face as he spots the bright glare of the pub at the corner, his watering-hole, his territory, his home away from home, “The Gazelle”. He'd called the pub “The Guzzle” once, back in ‘77 and wee Madeline Bannister had laughed so much she said she’d thought she’d wet her knickers. She’d been a looker then, only 19. Three weans but even so, Jamesie wouldn’t have minded really making her knickers wet. Time had not been kind tae wee Madeline, her curly black hair faded to grey in her thir

The Haddow Mystery.

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“ Do you believe him?” asked Doctor Armitage, a stout, gregarious man in his mid fifties. This was his first question to me and I could tell from his stare that my answer was of utmost importance. “ No, it's absurd.” I replied as if even the question was a mild insult. That seemed to be what he was looking for and Armitage gave a small contented smile along with his satisfied nod. “ Good. We've had trouble in the past with, what would you call them? Fanatics, I suppose.” Armitage explained. I knew about that, deranged fans looking for attention or affirmation had set back James Kelvin's recovery. It was him I was here to see. “ Who?” I can almost hear you all ask. I'll let his mother describe him. “ James was my youngest, there's nine years between him and his sister Emily, so we had experience in raising kids, as such James turned out a happy and popular boy. Everything was going great until he came back from college. It was in the sum

Maledictions.

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Stephen Sweeney /  Derelict tenement on Paisley Road West  /  CC BY-SA 2.0  “ I’ll sing you nine, O” Brothers, who the fuck would have them? Eddie had always hated his brother Ronnie, even as kids. He remembered his parents forcing both of them to Sunday School and being taught the tale of Cain and Abel. He got a different message from that than the teacher tried to give. Cain was the law abiding son, like Eddie. Cain knew that the animals were filled with the same breath of life as he, that Abel’s sacrifice of livestock was a blasphemy, and yet, Abel was the one the Lord had favoured. Cain, the good son, was not jealous of this, he was enraged by the injustice and had thought, if animal sacrifice grant ed such favour then human sacrifice would bear greater reward s . In a way Cain had been right. So Eddie had concluded as he packed the claw hammer, rope candles and bible into his black Adidas sports bag. Cain h ad been specially protected by God. Those unique interpre

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