A Working Class State of Mind by Colin Burnett

Author:Colin Burnett [Burnett, Colin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Leamington Books
Published: 2021-06-18T07:00:00+00:00

Ordinary Criminals

Ma postie came boondin along the road theday wae a bounce in his step, and a smile that mighta lit up the Vegas strip. It doesnae matter if it’s a hoat summers day, or if the froast bite is aboot tae set intae his baws. This boay alweys hus this annoyin grin splattered aroass his annoyin puss and his annoyin mooth offers an even maire annoyin “Hello.” Ah fur yin ken that whenever ah see him wanderin up the pathwey tae ma front door that some cunt, somewhere, is aboot tae make me walk the plank. And theday didnae disappoint. Ah hud jist goat back fae Farmfoods efter ah hud been there in preparation ae another evenin ae fine dining. Fur this evenin ah decided ma taste buds were gonnae be traumatised at the hand’s ae a ninety-five pence chicken risotto frozen ready meal. Grub fit enough fur a mass murderer oan death row. Oan a shoppin budget ae thirty quid a week what else kin yae expect, eh? well, apart fae diabetes that is.

Jist as ah reached ma front door and wis aboot tae turn the key tae go inside ah hear a familiar gravelly voice.

“Tommy, ah’ve goat suttin fur yae the dae” it says.

Ah thoat tae masel as ah turned roond: “Please, God, dinnae lit it be this cunt” ― but sure as shit ah wis faced wae this gleeful Postman Pat. Honestly, this cunt is that nippy he wid pit yae oaff yur mornin cornflakes. Ah’ve seen folk hittin the lotto wae less grimmer pusses than this boay. He’s yin ae they fuckin happy wanderers, ken? the sortae cunt tae gee yae the dry boke at even the mere thoat ae his presence.

“Aw, that’s great, Gary” ah sais.

Then, he pits his hand inside the bright rid Royal Mail bag holstered oor his shoulder and he produces a broon envelope fae it. Ma hert sank upon seein this symbolic pile ae shite. Ah jist kent ah wis aboot tae git well and truly shafted. Aloat ae bad news comes in many shapes and colours but the department ae work and pensions ain taste ae misery is alweys delivered in the same depressin broon envelope. Suttin struck me though, as he passed the letter oor. Somehow, he looked smugger than usual. Ah mean, he hud a smile tattooed acroass his puss as big as Liam Neeson if he’d jist been cast in the remake ae Zulu.

Ah could feel a tight knoat startin tae develop in ma stomach. The sortae feeling yae git when yae ken this isnae gonnae end well. And at this point ah jist wanted tae git inside tae pit awey ma messages. He tried tae rope me intae a conversation wae um.

“Ah hope it’s gid news, Tommy” he tells me.

Starin right through the cunt ah imagined how gid a 100lb American pitbull dug wid look oan toap ae him. Ah turned awey tae open the front door as wey ae avoidin geein him the satisfaction ae makin ma dae any worse than it needs tae be.

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