Back in the day... the 1990s, I was also writing in Scots. Unfettered by the Scots Language (Leid) Police. Just how it sounded in ma heid. Here's a couple of pieces that (as far as I remember) never lived beyond this 'flash fiction' stage (I don't think 'flash fiction' existed in the 1990s did it?)
05052020 I reflect that my life is all stories now. The only thing that feels real is the moment I’m in, and anything ‘looking back’ is all stories. Some are true and some aren’t. And sometimes I don’t know any more. And I'm not sure it actually matters.
PARTS STILL WAITING FOR A STORY...
"Blethers". The auld wans aye said "blethers" as if it wis the maist terrible curse on the face o the planet. Ken, when ye wis a kid an chatterin an batterin on aboot some sich rubbish like "How comes I cannae stay up an watch the Miss World?" or "How can we no gang doon the terraces on oor own" yer voice raising tae a pitiful whining tone an "My dad sa-ays we could" - but "yer dad's no here" says yer ma as she clatters ye roon the lug. An ye didna feel ye deserved it but ye kindae kent that ye did. Cus yer dad niver said no sich thing tae ye. But yer ma couldn't ken that. They didna really ken iverthing, ma's; they just liked tae make oot that they did. You could catch them oot sometimes, when they weren'e paying attention.
But that wis ma's. Ayeway's ower reactin tae the slightest thing. An in the backgroon, calmer, but mair irritatin fer a that, wi a pesky singsong voice that went richt intae yer lugs, wis the auld yin wi her "blethers. It wis no like this in ma day."
An I thocht tae masel, an ayeways wanted tae say oot loud - shoutin at the top o' ma unbroken voice "An I bloody hope it'll no be like this in ma day either, nan. If iver I get ma day, fer this piggin shite heap o a life is sure no it." But I niver said it. But I wish I had. Fer things huv no got better than that, an I widnae huv minded ma ma skelpin me intae next week fer sayin that. I wid huv had a moment uv triumph over "blethers" anyways.
Noo Kelly-Marie wis nae much o' a looker but she could mak a stottin guid fish curry, an I cun fergive a lassie a lot fer that. I mean, they guid lookers may suit some guys, but I reckon they're mair fash as they're worth. Yer ayeways gettin intae fechts wi bonny girls. Other guys wantin tae rearrange yer pan, just cus some wee tart said she fancied ye.
Besides which, whit guid looking sortae girl wid wantae give me a second glance. Ony ane that did, I'd be fair suspicious of masel. She'd huv tae be wantin somethin mair than guid looks - an I've no got anythin tae offer a girl, no even guid looks. Accordin' tae Kelly-Marie I'm no even that guid in the sack, though I think she wis just sayin that when she had a mood on her wan day, cus she aye comes back fer mair. But I cannae help but wunner if she meant it. Cus Kelly-Marie's no gonnae find a pile o' fellas that'll gie her wan. Well, no sober fellas anyways.
Find out more about the theory, process and meanings - an exercise in creating a brain in a virtual vat.