Paul Andrew Sneddon

Blue Sky

Me and her under an endless blue sky.

The clouds racing across it as we turn the radio off and pick our course.

Through the city till the concrete turns to grass.
The miles passing like minutes.

Pick a tune.

One singer. One song.

Your choice, my choice, and then around again.
Laughing like a pair of dafties when we forget the words.

Window down in the Scottish summer, we stop somewhere by the shore.

The water is cold, but we build a fire and eat the food we brought from home.

The forecast says the weather’s changing.

Not yet, I whisper, as we find the little Bluetooth speaker and dance like fools.

The beach deserted, we kiss as the sky grows dark above us.

Days

Sometimes I think about the days.

I’ve already had more than some, and less than others. Some just ran away from me, whether I let them or not.

The days I remember best are the ones I rose to meet. Making something from nothing.

And I think about the other days. The ones where I was stuck on the couch. Scattered across the floor. The weight on my chest.

And I think about today.

This moment.

And whatever days I’ve got left to come.

I know what I’m going to do with them.

Fine words.

Till the rain falls.

Or sleep doesn’t come.

I look in the mirror.

And I look straight back.

Cohen

The seats were rough with a few frayed covers. There were empty bottles all over the floor.
I turned the music up on my phone.

I was out here in the middle of the night. The flat was too big, and the bed empty. The movement helped. The other passengers like ghosts in the windows.

The music played: ‘If It Be Your Will’.

We moved through the night.

The bus slowed to a stop. ‘Everybody Knows’ was playing. We were outside the old cinema, a tree growing out the top.

The driver lit up and had a smoke.

It had been a while since I had one. Since the funeral.

She had made me promise.

The driver climbed back on and the bus moved off.

I closed my eyes.

‘Hallelujah’.

Sometimes you just start writing a sentence and follow it to where it goes, and more often than not it goes someplace you didn’t expect or weren’t ready for, and sometimes it just kills a few minutes of dead air, like on the radio where the guest hasn’t turned up, or they’re a bit nervous and they’re sweating everywhere before you even start to ask them about any of the things they came to talk about, and half of you wants to put your arm round their shoulder and say it’s alright, and the other half wants to give them a kick up the arse and say come on tae fuck, let’s go, commit or fuck off, and then the person promptly stands up and fucks off and you’re all alone in the air, and the producer is looking at you with wild eyes and their mouth dropped open, just, say something, anything, please, come on, and suddenly you start sweating and you say, sometimes the commit or fuck off ends in a fuck off, but that’s okay here’s a song I love by Stevie Blues.

And then you
Breathe

Out of Habit

Life is a firecracker sometimes, and sometimes it’s a little bar like this. This just suits me down to the ground.

The Harbour Pub, it never stops surprising me just how many people it fits when it looks like someone’s front room. The library round the corner, quiet on a Tuesday afternoon. Get a book and come in here for a pint or two.

The river rolling on like it knows better than to stick around, door open in the summer with the sunshine fading out. In winter, the door’s closed and if you hold it open too long when you go outside for a smoke you’ll be sure to know about it.

Maisey behind the bar is my kind of woman, a little bit grumpy but honest, you know. Doesn’t have to be the centre of attention all the time so I get peace to read.

Friday lunchtime I go and get her and me a ticket for the lottery, £5 each and if we win we split it between us. We used to just go for it when the winnings went above £100 million. High rollers, eh. But now we just do it out of habit.

She says she wouldn’t change a thing if she won. Not a thing. I like that. I think we have that in common, though I would like to travel, visit a few places.

Until then I’ve got my books.