Photo: ©Kim Haughton
'So, you had a book published then did ye?' he says, tipping the brim of his hat back from his eyes. They were slightly bloodshot, with a hint of mischief about them.
'Well, sort of,' I said, in between gasps of air, 'I didn't write all of it. Only bits'
'But you were published?'
'Well, yes. I was, I suppose'
'And now you can't breathe because you're too pisht, too high and too excited?'
'I think so. I mean, I don't know'.
'Well' he says flicking through the pages with this thumb, a sardonic smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, 'I wouldn't get too carried away with yourself just yet. It's a load of shite, if you ask me'
'You reckon?'
'Yep' he says, 'but then again that's what the fuckers told me for ten years'.
Continue reading A Load of Bladder.
