Oot (Flash Fiction)

So I’m oot hittin’ the clubs with ma besto Tammy. We’re at the Rusty Nail cause the music’s gid and the lads dinnae try and touch us up but anyways, a see this woman in the middle of the dance floor. I mean, I can admire a lassie’s good looks and aw that but this yin was like WOWZA.

I couldnae take ma eyes aff her. Her big knockers were shoved into this sparkly dress, lookin’ like a pair’a disco balls. And by god she couldnae half dance. I WANT her, like I’ve never wanted a woman in aw ma life. But naw! I shouldnae WANT her, I’m a straight woman, with a straight boyfriend. I cannae be into girls, can I? It’s the drink. It hus tae be the drink. Why do I feel like I want to flirt wae her, dance aw saucy wae her, snog her? I’ve never gone aw lesbian when I’m pished. It must be the Midoori.

“D’ye want a drink, Molly-hen?” Tammy asks me.

I yell something like, “Geez another Midoori and lemonade” as I walk up tae the hottie oan the dancefloor.

I dance up tae her, compliment her oan her amazing hair when she turns around to face me. She’s a man! And no jist any man, MY MAN, Gaz. Gaz? And he’s wearin’ his sister’s dress an aw.  Is he… naw, he canny be. He canny be… gay can he? He told me he was gonna stay at hame and look after the dug. Who’s lookin’ after me dug if he’s here? And he has the cheek to be here, and use ma makeup, and drinkin’ some poofy wee Cosmopolitan? I could punch him.

“It’s… it’s no what it looks like.” Whimpers Gaz

“Whit the fuck are you dae’in here?”

Then another ladyboy pipes up. His pal Derek. “Haha, that’s ma fault hen. It’s a charity night tonight. Tranny tea party, you know for cancer and that? He couldnae say no!”

I turn to Gaz. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was embarrassed. Come on you would have thought I was a… you know, poofter.”

I look back at Gaz. “I didn’t think that when I saw you. I thought you were an actual…”

“You thought I was an actual what?”

“You were a…”

Then up comes Tammy wae ma Midoori and lemonade. She yells, “Whit are you daein here Gaz?”

I look at Gaz. Gaz looks at me. We burst oot laughin’.


portrait of steph- oot


Peacock at Kew Gardens

I have no name but Peacock. I live in a big garden, with domes, grass, gravel and stuff. There are lots of chirruping, berry eating birds, flowers and trees, and apes in all shapes and sizes. But there’s nobody here quite like me. What’s that thing you’ve got in your hand? I’ve heard it’s called a camera, it’s for capturing memories? Am I a good memory? I like how it flashes. You stare and smile at me, because my feathers are colourful. You apes are so easily amused. I like that. Now you’ve got a picture of me, you can show me to all of your friends and they’ll think I’m magnificent too. Because you think I’m great, right? I mean, what’s the point in me being here if you don’t? There’s no bird quite like me.

That’s why they keep me by myself, I think. You should be looking at me, keep looking at my tail feathers. Look at me! I’m handsome! Don’t walk away, don’t- never mind. I just wanted somebody to talk to.

(C) Text and Featured Image by Jen Hughes



You see, there’s this girl I’m dating. We met online, and we’ve been talking every night. We’ve done some things- sexy things, over the phone, on IM, on Facebook. She’s sent me a few sexy pictures on Snapchat. She’s such a tease. She says she doesn’t want to meet me yet- she’s not ready, apparently- but I’m getting restless, my feet tapping. I want to surprise her. I’ve finished work, and now I’m waiting outside at the gate, in my car, with flowers and chocolates. It’s going to be perfect.  I see her among the hordes of children. She’s smaller than I expected, but she’s so pretty. Her ginger hair, her petite frame, perky tits, little Miss Prim. But she doesn’t recognize me. She doesn’t even see me. In a fury I drive off. What now? I thought it was going to be perfect. What the fuck did I expect from a 13 year old?