Litbreak Magazine

If Frank was an animal, he’d be a sheep.

I heard about the secret of Glasgow’s Gold after starting an office junior job in the City Chambers back in ninety-seven. They called me a GS3, which they thought officious, but to me sounded like a grubby Vauxhall. My old da’ had seen an advert in the paper. He had retired from the council having worked in the museums, and retained a few connections.

“If you get in the cooncil, you could have a job for life son, and a decent pension.”

Quality da’ advice. Always dispensed from a sedentary position, sitting in his chair in our living room, smoking his pipe whilst listening to the radio or reading a book or newspaper.

I’d only been working for Mrs. Kingsley a few months when Teddy announced he was bringing his girlfriend home for Thanksgiving. I can still picture her face when she hung up the phone that afternoon. Like she’d sucked on a lemon and then got some juice in a papercut.

I was an avid reader myself. My friends and I had started a detective-fiction book club during the pandemic. We called ourselves the Code Red Gals. We were always on the lookout for new book ideas; and it occurred to me it would be neighbourly to share a conversation with Alberto about our books. It was clear his reading gave him immense joy. He always seemed to beam from ear to ear; having little moments of clarity as he read. I wondered if he was into crime and detective stories like my friends and I.

I scan around the room, seeking Nina but finding other familiar faces instead. Doug and Klaus, everyone’s favorite couple. I say that sarcastically, of course. People are so jealous of happiness these days. Myself included. They’re practically making love on the dance floor. I try to support the bold act; cannon fodder for the revenge of Oren and the like who would see Locust shut down. The young lovers don’t care. Why should they have to?