Then the man coming along the aisle, a big heavy fellow, he sat down next to me. I knew he would. I had made the space. He noticed I had and nearly smiled, just how he looked around the eyes like it was almost a smile and hoped I would notice it. A recognition of the other’s humanity. There would be this between us. Otherwise he would not have smiled, not as an outer expression; but I was very conscious of his large body, a plumpness, thinking of plumpness. He was a plump man.
Had this been a revolutionary situation.
People dump their bags and their coats on the spare seats to stop folk sitting down next to them. I make space for them. I like to see them there and think alongside with them. They make thoughts go in a different way. So we are in the world together… Read more in Little Star Weekly
James Kelman will appear with Little Star on Wednesday, May 1, at the St. Mark’s Bookshop. More information here
His new novel, Mo Said She Was Quirky will be published this week. Kelman was born in Glasgow in 1946. He is the author of many novels, short stories, plays, and political essays. His novel How Late It Was How Late won the Booker Prize in 1994.
