The Football No 91

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
CHILDHOOD.FAMILY. FLASH FICTION. FROM THE COLLECTION, " BORN UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF SHADOWS. ' NO 91

Submitted: May 11, 2019

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Submitted: May 11, 2019

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The Football

 

  Uncle Johnno stops talking 'cause someone scored a 

try, and he wants to hear who it was. Uncle Johnno always

listens to the football in the afternoon on the weekend. 

He used to go and watch it all the time, but he says since I 

turned into a fairy, and grew long hair and everything, he's got

no-one to go with, and he's ashamed to be with me, 

looking the way I do, even if I wanted to. So he says he'd

rather have a few beers now and listen to it.

  Uncle Johnno likes to lie after he's been drinking for 

awhile that he plays for Saints, but is having the weekend

off, " cause he's injured. He tells Claw and me that all the 

time, and we pretend to believe him. He disappears down

the pub sometimes when the game Saints are playing is on

the radio, and comes back a couple of hours later with a 

few bottles of beer to celebrate Saints' victory, and he tells

us how he was judged best and fairest on the radio, and

we ask how come we didn't hear he was that good on the 

radio, and he tells us that we must have been listening

to the wrong staion.

  Uncle Johnno says, " You've got to listen to the right station

you mugs, now go and tell your parents you can hear them 

calling you. " And then he drinks his beer and gets drunker,

and we stay 'cause we know none of our parents are calling

us, and that Uncle Johnno really wants to tell us about the

game.

  And so he keeps drinking, and he tells us about everything

that happened in the game, and all the stuff they didn't tell 

us on the radio, about who punched who, and then he says,

" Saints are the best bloody team in the world, it's an honour

to play for them. " And after drinking all that grog he probably

does think he plays for them.

 


© Copyright 2019 tom mcmullen. All rights reserved.

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