Issue 9 - Gold Dust magazine
Issue 9 - Gold Dust magazine
Issue 9 - Gold Dust magazine
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Short story<br />
Religion and Politics<br />
A second sighting of Jehovah’s Witnesses...<br />
There were two of them at the<br />
door. My only day off this week<br />
too. Looked like a mother and<br />
son team. She small, dumpy,<br />
sexless, lank hair and big, white<br />
plastic-framed glasses, cotton<br />
dress and sandals. He taller,<br />
overweight, cheap suit and<br />
brogues, stupid eyes.<br />
They proffer a card that<br />
promises me good news.<br />
There's a big white crucifix on<br />
the front surrounded by pink,<br />
blue and green flowers, looks<br />
like Stupid Appearance in the<br />
cheap suit was busy on his<br />
computer last night.<br />
I'm bleary, hungover. "No<br />
thanks," I explain, "I'm Jewish."<br />
I don't know if she<br />
believes me. She looks like she<br />
wants to say something but<br />
can't quite formulate the sentence<br />
needed to express the<br />
bitterness and disappointment<br />
in her head. "Well," she begins.<br />
"I said I'm Jewish," I say<br />
and shut the door, silently apologising.<br />
I go back to bed and<br />
The queue moves quickly,<br />
served by a cheery blonde<br />
lady with middle-aged, livedin<br />
sexiness, long legs and a<br />
protruding rear that she<br />
knows about and once shook<br />
at me, leather trousered...with<br />
a wink.<br />
sleep the hangover off. It's not<br />
like it's the first time.<br />
Later on I'm waiting in Bere's.<br />
It's lunchtime and the queue's<br />
long, snaking past the counter<br />
and outside the shop. Smells of<br />
meat and pastry mix with dry<br />
cold autumn air scents of<br />
Hillsborough streets. The queue<br />
moves quickly, served by a<br />
www.golddust<strong>magazine</strong>.co.uk - <strong>Issue</strong> 9 - Winter 2007<br />
By Zack Wilson<br />
300 words<br />
Comedy<br />
cheery blonde lady with middleaged,<br />
lived-in sexiness, long<br />
legs and a protruding rear that<br />
she knows about and once<br />
shook at me, leather trousered,<br />
in The Shakey on a Saturday<br />
with a wink. I take my turn and<br />
she serves me a 'Famous<br />
Roast Pork Sandwich'. Saliva<br />
floods my mouth as I unwrap it<br />
on the street, anticipating its<br />
heavy satisfaction in my stomach,<br />
easing away last hangover<br />
traces.<br />
I take the first bite and<br />
see Stupid Appearance and his<br />
mum. They walk right past me.<br />
She stares, hard, angry, really<br />
angry.<br />
Fuck knows why. It's not<br />
her god I'm trying to piss off.<br />
<strong>Gold</strong> <strong>Dust</strong><br />
13
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