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Robin McConnell

I’m Rob McConnell, a retired Chartered Accountant living in County Down. On retirement I signed up for woodturning but had to give it up when I ran out of space in the attic for all the bowls, lamps and plant stands. Next I baked my way to a OCN level two certificate in “Cookery for Men”. At last I found Creative Writing. I’m currently working on a series of short stories based on the goings on in Auntie Barbara’s Cream Bun Cafe.

Bloody Gnomes Ville by Robin McConnell

(Picture a garden/yard in front of a house covered in Garden Gnomes. People stop by to look at them. If one of the gnomes could speak in a Belfast Northern Ireland accent this just might happen)

“Hi misses, what are you gawking at? Never seen a garden gnome before?"

"What’s that you say?"

"You love the wee house, the windmill, the multi coloured toad stools, the pond, the grassy patch and all the gnomes standing round."

"Let me tell you misses - the neighbour’s round here call it - “bloody Gnomes Ville”"

"Com’ here misses. Have you any idea, I mean can you imagine what it’s like to be a gnome in this auld doll’s front garden? No?"

"Wait till I tell ye."

"I’m the boss gnome round here, so I am. I was the first the auld doll got so I get to sit on the mushroom and dangle the fishing rod into this here pond. Bloody stupid if you ask me, why bother, there's no fish to catch. The black tom cat from King Street eats them up every time she puts in new’ns.

"The auld doll can be right and cruel. To stop me sliding off she put a peg up me bum and slotted it into a hole in the mushroom. Bloody painful I can tell ye."

"She leaves us out in all weathers – won’t let us take our clothes off in summer and won’t supply overcoats in winter." "See Jimmy over there - it was so cold last winter his beard broke off. You can see she made a right mess of gluing it back on. His beard’s coming out of his nose. God help him, it’s always covered in snotters."

"She makes us all wear the same stupid clothes – a red pointy up hat, blue jacket, yellow trousers and black wellies. We all have long white beards, including the female gnomes."

"Take Gladys over there, you wouldn’t think she was a woman. Well, I can tell you from experience that underneath she is all women. After dark when the auld doll stops duking from behind the curtains we nip off into the bushes for hanky panky or as we gnome’s call it gnomy pomy."

"See Cecil over by the windmill, ya the one with the limp pointy up hat – he’s a gay gnome. The auld doll hasn’t a clue he’s gay and keeps making him stand beside Virginia - she’s a nympho gnome."

"Wait till I tell ye, cats aren’t the only problem, no way Hosa. There’s a Jack Russell from across the road that’s taken a shine to poor George - Every morning, over he comes, lifts his leg and piddles all over his jacket. It then runs down into his wellies. It splashes up his leg when he walks around. On a cold morning George is steaming but there’s bugger all he can do about it. See the pong off him the summer, you’d need a peg for your nose."

"See the gnome up by the house – Ya, the one with the sideburns – the names Elvis - fancies himself as a singer. If you ask me, he’s crap – couldn’t carry a note in bucket. Keeps serenading Virginia with “Love me tender love me true”. She keeps telling him to get stuffed. So, God love him he’s back in “lonely Street” in “Heartbreak Hotel.” In fairness he can shake his hips a bit but the auld doll won’t get him a pair of blue suede shoes."

"The auld man next door kidnapped three of us last Christmas and sent a ransom note in to the auld doll demanding 6 mince pies and a bottle of whisky. Of course she paid up; I think she fancies him, like. She goes all wobbly at the knees when they talk over the fence, her stockings start working their way down her legs till they hang in ripples round her ankles. Give me Gladys and her beard any day." "What’s that you say? You can hear me talking but my lips don’t move. Well gnomes are different from humans we talk through our belly buttons. It makes sense; our brains are in our bums so it’s best to have your voice near your brain."

"Quick, duck down – here comes them Starlings again. God knows what the've been gobbing on but it makes a terrible mess of gnome’s ville. LOOK, they got Jimmy again – lucky him, the auld doll will take him in and give a nice warm bath. Come to think of I could do with a bath. Hey birdie this way - splat - bugger they’ve been at the raspberries again."

"What you doing misses? Put me down, the auld doll'll be livid. Let go, you're hurting me neck. What's that you’re saying? - "You taking me home to meet your gnomes?"”

"I like this. It's lovely and warm inside your coat. Is that your breast against my cheek? I could get used to this."

"Hi misses, any nice female gnomes back at your place? There is! Stuff the auld doll. Bye bye Gladys."

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Short Stories
A Word in the Hand

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