Fiction
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Glasgow Style
‘Hello there, doll,’ he says. ‘Hi,’ she says, smiling. ‘Mind if I sit here?’ He points to the barstool beside her. She sighs. ‘If you want to.’ ‘You’re no from around here, are you?’ ‘How observant.’ She attracts the barman’s eye. ‘Ah’ll get that for you, love.’ ‘I can pay for my own drinks.’…
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It’s Not easy Being Green.
Kevin hated waste. He despised the plastic packaging on the fruit and veg in the supermarket,
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Poppies In The Snow
[tweetmeme source=”nettiewriter” http://www.URL.com] Sandy buttoned his old jacket and pulled the collar up. Taking his cap from the peg he turned to his son Fraser, sitting at the kitchen table, shoulders hunched over a mug of tea. “Ah’ll away to the fields then.” Fraser didn’t acknowledge his father’s words. He sat there, unmoving, staring into…