Prose
By Evan Scott
“James ‘Barney’ Crockett, the Lord Provost of Aberdeen, recently stated that he may never be able to drink and smoke marijuana to the extent that he used to, due mainly in part to a massive workload, and a lowered tolerance.
The bomb shell came at a small digital press briefing on the 8th June, held over the application Zoom due to the Covid-19 social distancing rules. The briefing covered a number of topics including the boring Corona virus relief fund being championed by ‘Barney’, and some other guff about wheelchair ramps.”
“The rain streaked down the windows as the bus pushed up the road in the dark of morning, as the granite clouds fought to keep the early sun at bay. The warmth inside offered us sanctuary from the blistering cold of an Aberdonian December, and we sat on the upper level of the double-decker 727.”
“I remember the flowers, mainly. Whatever else was in the van blurs back to the junction end of Bedford Road. Its back doors had gaped open, wound-like. The man standing inside seemed hell-bent on his mission, too: cardboard box after cardboard box, wheeling out the van, through the air, smashing off the road, the pavement, crumpling into themselves.”