Autumn and Other Months

By Alistair Shand

Twelve short stories - one for each month. The year is measured out in familiar festivals. All the stories are set in Scotland - but not in an overly parochial way!

Two of the stories appeared in a previous anthology (Fistful of Rain - now withdrawn) - and another "A Glasgow New Year" is currently available as a standalone short story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alistair Shand
• Release date: Oct 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370029358

Alistair Shand

Former botanist, post man, shop worker, librarian, bank worker, IT bluffer. More importantly, husband and father. Dedicated follower of Alloa Athletic.

Book preview

Autumn and Other Months

A Year of Short Stories

By

Alistair Shand

Copyright 2016 Alistair Shand

Published by Clockmill Publishing

at

Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

January – A Glasgow New Year

February – Kawasaki Cupid

March – Last Ferry

April – Running on Empty

May – Irn Bru

June – Crazy Gill

July - Spanish gold

August – White Roses

September – Lunch with Mary

October - Autumn

November - Lentil Soup

December – Santa of Sauciehall Street

Acknowledgements

Thanks to everyone who sat through early versions of these stories. Your advice and critiques are appreciated!

I’d also like to thank you, the reader, for taking this year long trip with me.

January – A Glasgow New Year

New Year

1st January 1980 3 a.m. A new year, a new decade. A new beginning.

I walked along Great Western Road, heading to my parents’ house. Most of the windows were darkened. A few were lit, emitting party noises and the recorded glee of accordion music. The pavement was glazed with the rain that had accompanied the Bells and reflected the street lights in an artistic way. And it was cold. The alcohol seemed to be wearing off.

As I walked, I reflected on my life. My circle of friends was breaking up. People were moving on, now that University was over. Some to London, one to Chicago and one to New Zealand. It seemed time for me to move on too – or at least find a new circle of friends.

Half way home, I met a drunk man. He wore the traditional first footing outfit – a bunnet and raincoat – tastefully set off by a bright red scarf that was probably a Christmas present. He was waiting patiently for the green man to appear on the traffic lights – although the streets were empty. He pre-empted my question. I know – but knowing my luck, a taxi would whizz round the corner and skelp me on the arse. He produced a hipflask from nowhere like a magician. Drink? I had a swallow of some rough whisky and we wished each other a good year. I’d better get home, he said, mostly to himself, then Could you do me a favour? I tried to look non-committal. You see, I told the wife I was just popping out for 1 or 2 pints, but.. He shrugged his shoulders, "you know what its like at the New Year. She’ll kill me when I get home – but if I bring