writing – Paul Andrew Sneddon

Night Shift

Eddie drove down the main road, music playing loud. He was sure he was the only guy in Ayrshire playing 90s rock down the back roads. Definitely the only one still using CDs. What was it they called his favourite bands now? Classic rock. Fuck off. Jean had been saying,“Why not just go the wholeContinue reading “Night Shift”

Two Ghosts

The waiter brought the mug from the front bar, just like the singer had requested: half full of white wine. The crowd was different through here, the buzz of the front bar seemed another world. He left the mug by the piano and smiled at the singer. She was sitting by the window, singing aboutContinue reading “Two Ghosts”

Seen

People walked past her without looking. Someone in the crowd bumped into her and just kept moving. She saw a wee cafe on the corner, pushed the door open and it was scotch pies and soup and warmth. A waitress walked by and smiled. “Hiya, just sit anywhere you like.” She took a seat nearContinue reading “Seen”

Me and the Page

I’m not afraid to tell people that I write.In fact I’m not sure I give a fuck. Sitting around worrying what people will thinkwill hollow you out,steal the light from your eyes. You can’t live that way. You shouldn’t live that way. You are welcome to read.If you like it then great.If you don’t thenContinue reading “Me and the Page”

130 Tonnes

The light in the darkness you walked towards.A way out.Safety.That was the train rolling down the track,130 tonnes that can’t turn back,And you remember,There are no saviours.Just you. The voice that you heardSaid it was on your side.“Just send us £50,We’ll make it alright.”And you rememberThere are no saviours.Just you. Early morning light,Looking in myContinue reading “130 Tonnes”