MEMORIES OF 2014
Waiting for our roll and square in our adopted Yes cafe, we examined the Graphic designer’s wound. We are all experienced leafleters, and know better than to put fingers through letterboxes where a dog lurks. But this attack had taken place in total silence. On the street, the Night Nurse had bound up the wound with the guts of a feminine hygiene product, and we gazed with interest as it came away and the bloody fingers were revealed…
“It won’t kill you,” said the Night Nurse
“That’s never a dug,” said the Newsagent. “No punctures – just scratches. You didnae hear anything?”
“Not a thing,” said the Graphic Designer. “Just pushed the leaflet in, then a sort of nettle sting feeling”
“It’s a cat,” I said
“Half way up the door?,” said the Graphic designer. “Must have been a helluva jump”
The rolls and square arrived. The Graphic designer ate his left handed.
“Some people keep snakes,” said the Newsagent. “My pal did. See those two wee marks? Could have been a snake. Curled round the door handle maybe. Do you feel OK?”
The Graphic Designer looked at his roll, then put it down.
“It was a vampire,” said the Gym Teacher. “A unionist vampire. Do you have an urge to bite anyone?”
The Graphic designer bared his teeth. We all edged our chairs back.
“I saw on Twitter you can hire Jim Murphy by the day,” said the Newsagent. “Get him to stand behind your letterbox, watching for Yes leafleters. Then he bites.
“Does he cost much?” I asked.
“Naw, the Tories subsidise him.”
“Should we go back and expose him?”
“What’s the point? No one will print the story.”
“At least it’s a talking point,” I said. “I was bitten by Jim Murphy.”
“Aye, I’ll tell Nicola, when I next see her,” said the Graphic Designer.
The second round of coffee arrived. “Now, about that fracking….” said the Gym Teacher