Edinburgh

Short Story by A.L.Kennedy

Peter’s back was sore, maybe from lifting potatoes – not the big sacks, you prepared yourself for them and bent your knees the way you should, did what the Health and Safety poster told you. But there were little sacks, too – heritage varieties with comforting names and credentials from the Soil Association – and you’d take them in your stride, not thinking: two or three to either hand so you could fill up your display, and you’d be careless and you’d do yourself in. That’s what always knackered you, lack of foresight.

Although today that wasn’t fair, because the potatoes had done him no harm…