• Home
  • About
  • Around
  • Contributors
  • Applause

Daily Plate of Crazy

  • Relationships
    • Dating
    • Love
    • Marriage
    • Divorce
    • Life After Divorce
  • Parenting
    • Advice
    • Babies and Kids
    • Tweens and Teens
    • College Kids
    • Single Moms
    • Older Moms
    • Dads
    • Family Dynamics
    • Money Matters
    • Work-Life
  • Health
  • Sex
  • Women’s Issues
  • Fashion & Style
    • Chaussures
    • Fashion
    • Style
    • Lingerie
    • Interiors
  • Culture
  • More
    • Art Art Art
    • Business
    • En Français
    • Entertainment
      • Mad Men
      • Mad Men Reviews
      • Real Housewives
      • Movies
      • Celebrities
      • Work of Art Reviews
    • Flash
    • Food & Recipes
    • Lifestyle
    • Morning Musing
    • Starting Over
    • Technology
    • Travel
    • Women and Money
You are here: Home / Flash / Scotland

Scotland

February 24, 2011 by D. A. Wolf 13 Comments

He has a brogue and I am mesmerized, accustomed to seduction by a Gallic tongue, and one in which I understand the nouns and verbs and nuance of a change in tone. In this, his particular cadence, I am deaf to the meaning of every third word, but in our new music lies something other than seduction and other than friendship.

I confine myself to treading lightly in unfamiliar notes.

After all, I have taken up the virtual pen one last time in the pernicious pool of dating dramas, in this vulnerable moment, in the wake of too many nights of silence, susceptible to the selection of The Latest Great Deal which sends me spiraling into the black hole of the same old scene: here, where we become our transactions and they exact their toll at the door; here, where upon re-entry we look for the nearest exit; here, where the price is higher than we remember and still we persist, wanting to believe.

We anticipate measurable value for our currency. We settle for a share of fun house distraction.

So I pin on my newest name and my shiniest smile, resolving to give it another go: I swing on the metaphorical porch and wait; I press my nose to the thin glass and wait; I dip an index and then a thumb and all the other digits as needed into the flash, the wink, the flirt, the two sentence hello but never the whole heart, never the girlish fourth finger, never the room to roam and I remain outside, and I wait.

One evening he writes and then calls and I don’t know why I agree to provide my number except that I am intrigued when he speaks and I hear the sound of Brigadoon and imagine castles rising from the moors. We begin a pattern of nightly conversation that seems to soothe us both, as our relationship such as it is consists of simple consolations: He reads to me in his luxuriant voice – a sonnet, a story, a paragraph of nothing much at all – and it is enough.

My mother was particularly fond of the globe thistle which flourished in her garden despite the cold, which radiated pride in its perfect sphere of cornflower blue, which reappeared year after year in her rocky bed in that toughened Yankee soil that suited her solitude.

I choose a different soil, though I am seduced by the thistle.

He calls for weeks and reads to me from a distant place as I recognize that distance appeals as much as the brogue, or rather – distance accommodates my complications, my thorny schedule, this tail end of single parenting in which the tail wags the body; whatever salve I try never quite arrives at the petals of the wound nor its perpetual ache. So I confine myself to the role of a face on a page and a welcoming ear, while he is the stalwart set of a jaw in a jpeg and the melody of a temporary fix.

Yet there is talk of literature and language, of love and romance, of thriving children and dead marriages. I know it is only a matter of weeks or months before a woman in the flesh will catch his fancy, a woman whose hand he may take in his own will press with the warmth of her skin and the tenderness of her fingertips, a woman whose lips will part when he greets her and whose tongue like his will sweeten their silence; she is a woman who will become more than her words and less than her words and she will not remain outside in the cold.

A month passes and I squander minutes in the middle of the darkness as I gaze at faces that I scanned years ago. This is the new dating world in all its falsity: images I recognize, knowing time has surely aged them. I revolt at the audacity of a 10-year old likeness even in the online ocean that carries us so callously, but my options are limited: I persevere in trying to kindle interest; I paid for this ritual in which there is neither pleasure nor pain; I float in weary acceptance that this is all that is left: swinging on the porch alone and waiting, my nose pressed to thin glass and waiting, the petals of the wound.

Of course there is Scotland, whose poetry dwindles as I expect until it disappears altogether, who has met a woman to read to at his side, her breath warm and steady against his chest, his brogue nothing romantic in and of itself, though for me it seems to linger, and with it, the thistle’s sharp and self-indulgent hue.

Flash fiction is a very short story of anywhere from 100 to 1,000 words. This is a quick writing exercise from life, from dream, from imagination.

 
Find more fun flash fiction exercises here.
 

FacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmailFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmail

Filed Under: Flash, Language Tagged With: dating over 40, dating over 50, Marriage and Divorce, online dating, romance, Scotland

Comments

  1. Jane says

    February 24, 2011 at 11:28 am

    And who says that woman couldn’t be you? Maybe he is reminiscing about the sweet lilt in your voice. 😉

    Reply
    • BigLittleWolf says

      February 24, 2011 at 11:30 am

      No. 🙂 Actually, he got in touch after a long silence. To let me know he met someone. He sounded happy, and I was happy for him. I always knew what it was and what it wasn’t. And it was lovely – even with its obvious limitations.

      Jane – you are a romantic. (Delightful. Aren’t we all – to some degree – when we’re honest about it?)

      Reply
  2. NoNameRequired says

    February 24, 2011 at 1:05 pm

    Oh my dear. And, I am puddled by that accent too, though I know more the one from Ireland… cousins they be, though.

    Reply
  3. Angela says

    February 24, 2011 at 2:05 pm

    Even though it didn’t materialise into more than what is was, I am glad that you had those moments and felt content to share them with us. 🙂

    Reply
  4. Jane says

    February 24, 2011 at 5:18 pm

    (scowling and scrunching up my lips) You’re right. I AM a romantic. I’m sitting here thinking, yes – but it won’t last and he’ll be calling BLW soon.

    Reply
    • BigLittleWolf says

      February 24, 2011 at 5:25 pm

      Oh Jane. You are so lovely. But frankly, he’s in the wrong country (for me). Scotland? Brrrr. I think I’d like those kilts though. 🙂

      I suspect that my womanly options are greater in a region known for its heat, its pout, and a language I have mastered. Romantique, for sure. But the gentleman in question is a wonderful man, and what’s not to love about someone who reads poetry across the ocean, and with a brogue?

      Reply
  5. Contemporary Troubadour says

    February 24, 2011 at 6:00 pm

    I can hear that voice and feel the thrill of language sweetened by that most musical of accents. I guess it doesn’t hurt that I happened to watch “Sliding Doors” last night (after your recommendation).

    Sigh …

    Reply
    • BigLittleWolf says

      February 24, 2011 at 9:39 pm

      Excellent, CT! (Sigh, indeed.)

      Reply
  6. batticus says

    February 24, 2011 at 9:19 pm

    I visited Scotland with some friends last summer, it is a wonderful place to visit; you’re lucky to have a friend that lives there.

    Reply
    • BigLittleWolf says

      February 24, 2011 at 9:39 pm

      I’ve only seen it in films and photographs. It looks incredibly beautiful (and seems wildly romantic). . . Did you return home with any thistles, batticus?

      Reply
  7. LisaF says

    February 25, 2011 at 12:34 am

    There is definitely something about a brogue that is simply divine. It sounds corny, but I got addicted to a series called The Highlander with Adrian Paul. I think I watched is (aside from the eye candy) just to hear the Gaelic hilt in his voice. I borrowed all SIX seasons and watched them in about 3 weeks.

    Reply
  8. Aidan Donnelley Rowley @ Ivy League Insecurities says

    February 25, 2011 at 10:48 am

    Rich and gorgeous, BLW.

    Reply
  9. batticus says

    February 25, 2011 at 11:44 am

    No thistles came home, real or otherwise 🙂

    A charming Scottish movie suggestion, check out “Stone of Destiny”, a movie about some Scottish students trying to retrieve a part of Scottish history stored at Westminster Abbey.

    Reply

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

 

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Follow Us

FacebooktwitterrssinstagramFacebooktwitterrssinstagram

Search Daily Plate of Crazy

Subscribe for Your Daily Serving

Enter your email address:

Delivered by FeedBurner

Categories

Archives

Recent Comments

  • TD on What’s Cookin’?
  • Renee on Narcissism. Manipulation. Keeping Score.
  • Anonymous on Does Effort Matter If You Don’t Get Results?
  • D. A. Wolf on Mantras
  • D. A. Wolf on Over 50, Unemployed, Depressed and Powerless
  • Marty on When You Marry a Loner
  • Tina on Would You Brag About Your Age?
  • Sal on Over 50, Unemployed, Depressed and Powerless
  • Open More Doors If You Want More Skills - 3 Plus International on Open More Doors If You Want More Skills
  • Leonora C on Over 50, Unemployed, Depressed and Powerless
  • Maree on Mantras
  • kate on DON’T Call Me Dear!

The Makeover Series

Daily Plate of Crazy: The Makeover Series

Essays From Guest Writers

Daily Plate of Crazy: Essay Series

Daily Reads

Daily Plate of Crazy Blogroll

Follow

Follow

Notices

All content on this site, DailyPlateOfCrazy.com, is copyrighted by D. A. Wolf unless copyright is otherwise attributed to guest writers. Do not use, borrow, repost or create derivative works without permission.

© D. A. Wolf 2009-2025. All Rights Reserved.

Parlez-vous francais?

Daily Plate of Crazy: En Français

© D. A. Wolf 2009-2025
All Rights Reserved

Daily Plate of Crazy ™

Privacy Notice

Popular This Month

  • 50 Years old and Starting Over
  • Best Places to Live When You're Over 50 and Reinventing
  • When the Person You Love Is Emotionally Unavailable
  • When a Couple Wants Different Things
  • How to Comfort Someone Who Is Stressed

Food for Thought

  • Why I Choose to Think Like a Man
  • When You Marry a Loner
  • Emotionally Needy Parents
  • Sex vs. Lovemaking: Why Are We So Confused?
  • Think Looks Don't Pay?
  • Rebranding Mediocrity: Why Good Enough Isn't Good Enough

Copyright © 2025 · Metro Pro Theme on Genesis Framework · WordPress · Log in

This site uses cookies for the best browsing experience. By continuing to use this site, you accept our Cookie Policy.
Cookie SettingsACCEPT
Manage consent

Privacy Overview

This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may affect your browsing experience.
Necessary
Always Enabled
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. These cookies ensure basic functionalities and security features of the website, anonymously.
CookieDurationDescription
cookielawinfo-checkbox-analytics11 monthsThis cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Analytics".
cookielawinfo-checkbox-functional11 monthsThe cookie is set by GDPR cookie consent to record the user consent for the cookies in the category "Functional".
cookielawinfo-checkbox-necessary11 monthsThis cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookies is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Necessary".
cookielawinfo-checkbox-others11 monthsThis cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Other.
cookielawinfo-checkbox-performance11 monthsThis cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Performance".
viewed_cookie_policy11 monthsThe cookie is set by the GDPR Cookie Consent plugin and is used to store whether or not user has consented to the use of cookies. It does not store any personal data.
Functional
Functional cookies help to perform certain functionalities like sharing the content of the website on social media platforms, collect feedbacks, and other third-party features.
Performance
Performance cookies are used to understand and analyze the key performance indexes of the website which helps in delivering a better user experience for the visitors.
Analytics
Analytical cookies are used to understand how visitors interact with the website. These cookies help provide information on metrics the number of visitors, bounce rate, traffic source, etc.
Advertisement
Advertisement cookies are used to provide visitors with relevant ads and marketing campaigns. These cookies track visitors across websites and collect information to provide customized ads.
Others
Other uncategorized cookies are those that are being analyzed and have not been classified into a category as yet.
SAVE & ACCEPT