Sheep magazine archive 1: issues 3-9

38
.3
“Get up”. A foot pushed him through the duvet.
His feet felt cold sticking out from the end of the
duvet. Christ, why was it always freezing in this
house.
“Cmon, you’ve got school in 20 minutes. You
better get a move on.” It was his dad. “I don’t
want to go. What’s the point?”
He felt a pull on the duvet and slid off the bed
onto the floor. He could see the morning light
seeping in from under the cover, his fathers boots
were paint spattered. There was a small nail
embedded in the thick rubber sole on one side.
“Fuck off dad”.
The cover was whipped off him and he spun
around, yanked by the force. A hand pulled his
hair. Hard.
“Don’t talk back to me you wee shite, I’m not
nearly as soft as your daft mother.”
Brad looked into his fathers face. Some unnamed
emotion crossed behind his eyes and was gone.
Then his father let go and looked away out the
window rubbing his hand along the back of his
head.
“Here, I washed your shirt”.
Brad took it and sat on the bed. He lifted the shirt
to his face and could smell last nights dinner. The
kitchen had a drier. ‘The Pulley’ his mum had
called it. Clothes would hang on the pulley to dry
while outside the rain poured down on the blue
slate roofs of the people of Milltown. The rain
seeped into every crack and crevice, filling the air
with the tart dampness that constituted a Scottish
winter. Inside, their clothes would hang and dry
slowly. Absorbing the chipfat and frozen pizza
smell that permeated the house downstairs, his
staple diet since his mother passed away. Outside,
a dirty white van pulled up. He could see the top
half slide into view along the top of the hedge. A
horn beeped.
“If I come home and find you’ve bunked off again
I’ll tan your hide”.
He half flinched expecting the slap that usually
followed this threat but his dad just turned and
walked away. His big boots ringing out on the
bare floor of the hall.
What a fucking pain in the arse it was to get up
every day and go to that shitty school. He hated
it and everyone there apart from his mates. Brad
sat down on bed again and clutched his head.
He could feel the blood pumping through his
brain with every heart beat and every beat was
SHEEP IN THE ROAD : NUMBER 3