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Elphinstone Kist   Prose bi Bairns

Clarts     by: Beattie, Bryan

I wis at Kirkhill last weekend jist fur a cycle. It wis hett. There wisna a lot o fowk aboot. I gaed oot the back roads bi the brae ower Brimmond Parks... it saves ye gaun on the main road. There wisna muckle beasts aboot. Ane o ma mates wis wi me, Matthew Strachan. His da's a fairmer aside the Lang Stracht. I've bin at the fairm .. the fairm hoose is at ae place an the parks are a bittie awa. He's got an Alsation..I canna myne its name, bit it growls if ye dinna spikk tilt. It's got great big teeth .... a goldie-black dog. They need it as a guard dog .. there's bin fowk tryin tae nick stuff.

Onywye Matthew an me went up ower Elrick Hill, doon the ither side through the
Tyrebagger wid, ower the A96 an up the brae. We were up at the tap o the wid, the Kirkhill wid. The rain hid bin beltin doon, it made the grun marshy, boggy, it wis fairly dubby. The rain hid stopped, an it wis a bittie tough tae control the bike. If ye gaed roon the corner, baith wheels war slidin. Matthew wis ahin me. I cam tae anither corner .. a bittie roon it, the bike started skytin awa.

It hit somethin... I gaed fleein awa. Bang! Intae mair marsh. I kinda hurt ma leg. The bike wis lyin on its side. Ma trainers war in a helluva sottar an ma jeans war cauld an weet. Matthew ripped on the brakes. He skyted a wee bit, then managed tae stop. He picked ma bike up fur me, an I gaed ower tae it. The wheel wis a bittie buckled... the brakes war rubbin a bittie.We gaed ower the hill an back hame.



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