Scones: Mark Blackburn

I’ve spent years selling fashionable shoes, stood for Parliament, and resumed an early passion for writing. My work has twice been published in ‘Between The Lines’, an anthology of the best output from students at the City Lit. I have just finished a novel, ‘Can We Talk?’, to be published next year.

Mel fresh out of college, Taigh with his guitar or surfboard; they’re both free spirits unleashed to enjoy the long summer evenings on the southern Irish coast. Chasing the hypotenuse, chasing the perfect wave – they’re both chasing something, but it may not be the same thing…

*

It hadn’t been only Mel’s idea. Taigh was just as up for it after they’d gone to the Farmers’ Market in Clon.  “Sure, good plan,” he’d said. “You make great scones. They should sell like hot cakes!” Hilarious. In the end, she didn’t get him, but she got the wheels, and she was bloody well going through with it.

Mel loaded up the battered old Nissan Urvan, the tin junk heap which was painted in an off-white, still revealing the script of “Nyhan & Sons, Decorators, Bandon” underneath its scant application. That was a close thing.

*

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Scones

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