From Glasgow to Saturn

The talented students from University of Glasgow's creative writing course produce some very interesting material - they are now sharing some of their shorter pieces with us:

14th February, 2008

Hidden Shallows

Teens

They'd fallen in love. By which they meant that they'd found someone who liked the same things about them that they liked about themselves. Wasn't it lucky that 'the one' was actually studying the same subject at the same university as them? Wasn't it amazing that their flatmates had gone to school together? It must be fate, karma, meant to be. They name-checked their way through their first date in lieu of conversations. Catcher in the Rye? The Breakfast Club? The Smiths? They warily raised the stakes. Norwegian Wood? Three Colours Red? The Cocteau Twins? Check. Check. Check. At long last they'd found someone who didn't follow the herd. The sex? Well, it was quantity rather than quality at their age, wasn't it? Alas as time went on they discovered that they were too young to settle down, they would always be friends, they would never find someone quite like each other. By which he meant that he had discovered French girls in his gap year. By which she meant that so had she.

Twenties

They'd fallen in love. By which they meant that they'd found someone drunk enough to talk to them at a boring party, this was Britain after all and people were shy, and sober enough to stand up, date rape laws on consent had changed after all. Their first date was at a gig in Camden, someone's brother, and a party in Kentish town, someone's sister. The sex was fine. Alas, as time went on they discovered that while they loved each other, they were no longer in love. By which he meant that he suspected he was punching below his weight, by which she meant that she was lunching with a guy from work who loved Norwegian Wood.

Thirties

They'd fallen in love. By which they meant that they'd found someone who didn't embarrass them at work nights out and who could be their 'plus one' at weddings. It was nice to stay in on the occasional Saturday, but not to stay in alone. Their first date was in a gastropub. Somewhere you could get a seat, you know? And hear yourself above the music? Don't we sound old! Who would have thought it? The sex? It was fine. They were old enough to say what they wanted without being embarrassed, and no one was perfect. Alas a few months later they broke up over dinner, before going on for drinks. Something was missing. By which they meant that despite experience and what their married friends said, they still believed that there had to be more. Hadn't there? There must be someone out there who liked the Breakfast Club.

Forties

They'd fallen in love. By which they meant that they'd met someone who understood the pressures of juggling elderly parents and teenage children and who was sober, solvent and straight. Their first date? They still hadn't had time to have one. The sex? Well it was quality rather than quantity at their age, wasn't it? Alas the relationship didn't last. He told her that if she didn't stop putting things down the side of the bin bag he would kill her. She told him that if he didn't stop leaving dirty ashtrays about she would kill herself. By which they meant that they'd discovered the joys of living alone.

Fifties

They'd fallen in love. No, really.

fromglasgowtosaturn.co.uk - the on-line magazine for Glasgow University's Creative Writing.