Aldi, M5, Junction 2


You’ll Never Know – Wayne Dean Richards
The old man’s rage is inconspicuous behind glasses thick as the bottom of a bottle: no money for the Asda across the road much less thinned lenses.
First one of the younger guys says it, then the other, like an echo, “Fuckin’ old cunt!”
The younger guys decide the smile the old man returns is a taunt and they’re right to, behind them the sound of the M5 a relentless whine or a cry for help, it’s hard to say which.
As usual the old man’s parked some way from the entrance to Aldi: where empty wrappers congeal, weeds sprout through cracks in tarmac and stray dogs stop to shit.
“What’re you smiling at?” one of the younger guys says, spittle gathered at the corners of his mouth.
“You’ll never know,” the old man says, striding towards them with years’ worth of ready in hand.


We were proud to kick-off our Writing the Black Country blog with a flash from the respected local writer, Wayne Dean Richards, and we are delighted to share some more of his work here. Wayne tells us that this flash was inspired by a very specific Black Country location, “the Aldi near Junction 2, where I do indeed part with some of my readies.” He goes on to claim that “any resemblance between me and the old c**t is purely coincidental,” although most folks would agree that overexposure to Aldi is likely to send anyone of the edge. This is familiar creative territory for Wayne, addressing repressed resentment at the paucity of life, and the consequences of that repression.


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