The sun sneaks behind the hills just a wee bit earlier n the nights start tae come in around yi again, remindin yi ae the mortality ae summer. The summers ir where it’s at. Even a grey place like this, in the sun, kin light up temporarily, offer some consolation fur the constant dull shades n fuckin shine. Everycunt wid go nuts, taps aff, cargos n doon the fields n the parks, lyin hazy aw day n slidin home when the long evenings drew oot n started tae retreat, bringin those warm dusks in around the trees n the troops. Those wur the best wans, the young summers, six weeks ae warm, sweet nothingness. Yi kin never git those back. Even if yir oot ae work n every day is a Saturday, it’s never the same. Those days become long, drawn-oot Sundays. Yi huv tae work n tae work, yi huv tae gee up yir time. Wae nae time n a shitey job, yi live fur the weekend n yir fortnight at the fair n Christmas but yir time aff is spent worryin aboot work, so yi drink tae forget n remember the eld times. That’s how the eld summers wur special n how yi never git them back. There wis suhin sacred aboot them, suhin that drove yi on apart fae boredom n occasional adventure. Suhin meaningful among the madness, even though we wasted them, squandered ours drunk n in drug-induced numbness. Try as yi might tae work oot wit that wis, or tae feel that eld magic again, yi kin never git them back n there’s nae point dwellin on it cos it’s done. It wis but the blink ae an eye, but we’re no they wee boys fae the young team anymore.

It’s the end ae August noo, two weeks after the last party wae the troops. A’ve been keepin a low profile. There’s nuhin tae hide fae anymore really. A seen aw the Toi wans doon the street but they just looked at me n A walked past without a word. There wis a few whispers n tuts but none ae them acknowledged me as a threat. It’s the way yi carry yirsel, ma heed’s still up, but there’s nae challenge in ma eyes, nae aggressive swagger ae ma arms. A’m just a normal cunt goin aboot his business. That doesnae make yi invincible, no by any means. A wid always huv tae watch aboot here. Yi cannae fly wae the crows then just expect tae be forgotten. It doesnae work like that, cos just when yi think yir oot the woods, on a night oot or walkin roon the corner, somebody who still wants tae be a somebody wid be there n wid remind yi ae who yi used tae be. That’s how tae dae this properly – yi huv tae disappear, long enough tae be forgotten. How long is that? Possibly forever. Cos every time yi come back it wid always be the same n even if they’ve forgotten, you won’t huv. It’s too easy tae fall back intae eld routines, habits n wae eld friends. The grey depression ae the towns aboot here drives yi backwards, even if yir heed’s elsewhere n yir heart belongs there. Time slips away quickly when yir waitin fur that kind ae revelation n before yi know it yir right back where yi started, dain the same things wae the same people n startin aw over again.