A Decent Ride
“Wir rumbling doon Daly Road, n it’s fair pishin doon wi fierce gales startin up. — You jist lit ays oaf here, ah sais tae that Terry.
— Strong winds but, he goes. Christ, even wee Jonty, whae could be a fuckin machine, nivir cowped ays like that animal! But ah’m no sayin nowt tae Terry cause he’s goat a big enough heid as it is, n eh really fancies ehsel.
Ah look back at him. — What’s it tae you, son?
Terry looks a wee bit stung at that. — Thing is, you’re obviously gaun intae The Pub Wi Nae Name. Eh points acroass the street tae the boozer. Ah kin see Deek McGregor outside, huvin a fag. — Well ah am n aw. Ah’ve a wee message tae droap oaf.
— Whae fir?
— You’ll no ken thum.
— Bet it’s one ay the Barksies! Evan!
Terry rolls his eyes like ah’ve goat um thaire, n goes, — Amongst others.
— Ye goat ching?
— Aye . . .
— Ah pure want tae dae a line.
— No here. Terry looks oot through the windaes at the deserted streets, hardly even any motors oot. — It’s ma livelihood .
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