Old Stories Never Die

BUT They disappear in Medium

Dermott Hayes
Sep 9, 2018 · 3 min read
Storm brewing (Hayes)

I’ve been a Medium member for the best part of a year and contributed, according to the statistics, close to 1200 stories, or what Medium calls ‘stories’. I know I don’t read and comment as much as others or work assiduously and with intent to attract readers by the donor plan but I have contributed and done my bit.

People do find me, read my stories, my poems and follow what I write. I’m very grateful to them for readers are a writer’s life’s blood. But I want more people to read what I write and it occurred to me, back in those bleak days of finding my way, learning how to ‘draft’ a story, add it to a publication and so on, that I was always writing and writing good stuff, as good as anything I write today.

The only difference is very few people read them and even fewer clapped. Indeed, when the whole Clapping palaver happened, people behaved as though they were ration books and if they gave too many today, there’d be none tomorrow.

So I’ve decided to resurrect them. It’s simply a guide, an introduction, a list of links.

Let’s start with Brown Bread, a short story. There is such a thing as rhyming slang so ‘would you believe it?’ becomes ‘would you Adam and Eve it?’, deaf becomes ‘Mutt and Jeff”, a suit, a ‘tin of fruit’ and a stairs, ‘the apples and pears.’ Got it?

This story’s about a soldier, a war veteran, lying, seriously wounded, in a field hospital. His mind rambles and brings him to the place where he feels most comfortable, home, home with his mother, baking cakes and bread. And that’s where the rhyming slang comes in because, well, ‘brown bread’ in rhyming slang, means Dead.

The next one’s called 2SoulsOnCrutches and it’s about two people who met each other when both were burdened with luggage of time wasted, time lost, opportunities wasted. Then they meet one day, apparently by accident, through a shop window. But neither has the will or the inclination to re-open their wounds.

At the End of the Bar is one of my personal favourites because if you’ve ever spent time in your local drinking haunt, there’s always one of these people, drunk in despair and defeat. These are people who had lives, maybe loves, dreams and aspirations but it hasn’t worked out, for whatever reason.

Here’s another love poem called Torn Apart but no, there are no gauze filters, moonlight or a hazy mist of dawn cresting the rise of the meadow. No, this is a break up poem because, hey, it’s real life, it’s awkward and painful and the memory always lingers. It might be about longing for someone that’s gone from this life, too.

Home is Where was the first poem I published in Medium and the first and only poem I’ve ever written to receive ZERO claps, yes, NADA, ZILCH, DUCK EGG, THE BIG 0.

So it’s the perfect poem to end with, breathing life back into something that never had a standing chance from the start.

Enjoy.

The Junction

The Junction is a digital crossroads devoted to stories, culture, and ideas. Our interests are legion.

Thanks to Jake

Dermott Hayes

Written by

Novellist, poet, blogger and ex-journalist. ‘If the cap fits.’ https://medium.com/@dermotthayes

The Junction

The Junction is a digital crossroads devoted to stories, culture, and ideas. Our interests are legion.

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