A’m goin the back way, doon the series ae lanes, an arterial system that carries blood vessel bams, floatin aboot wae wine n big fat bottles ae cider. We used tae stand here on Friday nights, up n doon them. This wan leads tae the Orange Hall. A’m keepin up joggin pace, past the eld garages wae spray-paint aw over them n the barbed wire fences n CCTV. The Union flag, flyin high as a reminder ae our loyal leanin. A’m doon the scheme noo, runnin past aw the eld terraced hooses, row after row lookin the same apart fae the shade ae yir roughcastin n the colour ae yir door. Ma granny used tae paint hers red n it stood oot, even if it wis flakey in the last days. There wur drops spilled on the landin that wouldnae disappear, even if yi brushed it.

A’m passin hur eld hoose. It’s long since sold on noo n new life is in it, different curtains n blinds ir up, no like when she wisnae well n they wur always doon. When she hud been in the hospital fur ages the hoose stayed dark, like it wis wise tae wit wis comin n hud already begun tae mourn hur passin. Maybe it’s hur garden that Danny’s gran’s reminded me ae, that the true source ae sorrow when she passed n it fell intae disrepair. New residents probably slabbed over the soil flowerbeds in the concrete, optin fur an easy-maintenance garden tae fit in wae their busy modern lifestyles.

Ma granny hud been proud ae hur garden, kept it nice n always turned the soil, even when she wisnae fit tae. A’m a wee boy again as A pass hur hoose, oot playin on an eld red scooter ae ma maw’s n aunt’s, kickin stones aboot doon the tarry, a rough car park behind the hoose wae eld wooden garages that smelled ae creosote n burnt yir nose. That’s where the cowfields start n led away tae the big gas-tanks. Yi used tae hear their siren every lunchtime n that wis when yi knew ma gran wis gonnae put on a tray ae oven-chips fur yi n gee yi them in a piece wae Mother’s Pride n red sauce. They’re gone noo anaw. A grow back up intae a man n weep fur ma past life as the hoose passes oot ae sight. A keep joggin by n on towards the end.

A’m passin the bottom park where we aw used tae sit. There’s nae park really, just a few eld broken swings n burnt crash mats. A heard they wur gonnae dae it up fur the weans tae go back doon n play, but it never happened. It wis left broken as a memorial tae those who hud destroyed it. Ironic, that noo some ae them couldnae take their own wee ones doon tae play n hud tae go doon tae the big wan at the Lochs in Drumpellier or up tae Polkemmet country park. We used tae git taken up tae Palacerigg as weans. Yi got right up tae the animals n they hud bison n a few real lynx, arctic foxes n aw sorts. They used tae huv Halloween walks wae cunts chasin yi n jumpin oot on yi n aw that. They even kidded on the wolves hud escaped wan year, got us ontae the treetop walk n then they bounced oot wae chainsaws n started them up tae scare us aw. Yi probably wouldnae be allowed that noo.