The Oul’ Fellas

The Oul' Fellas

A short story by Giuseppe Gillespie

Two oul’ fellas[1] well up into their seventies meet up in the park every week as part of a routine, I could usually find them on a Thursday or Friday around lunch time. They always meet at the same spot – the same bench that overlooks most of the walkways throughout the park. I know the spot well, it’s a grand spot, especially in the summer when the park gets a lot of footfall. From this spot you can see all the joggers, dog-walkers, truants, and those that like to go a’ sauntering and whatnot throughout the park. I had always seen these gentlemen here on my lunchtime strolls, pensioners no doubt, and they had always seemed to be in good humour when I passed by, often cackling away to each other over one thing or another.

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Shadow & Light

Wake, the morning grey.
Dull and bitter greeting me,
for the coming day.

These dreary words accompanied her thoughts as she awoke. It was a dull and gloom morning, a trend that had become quite frequent these past few days. As she sat underneath the clouded glow of the rising sun, its sullen rays reflecting her stolid, alabaster complexion, she reflected on the events of the past few days…

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