An uncanny town, this one. Go past an alley one day and it is gone by the next, the houses closing up as though nothing had happened. An aberrant street, turning up here and there unpredictably. These Scottish heirs can give you the evil eye, ear or elbow and the rest of your day will seem disjointed. After a while you get the feeling that the town is not quite here, slipping into another zone, with a few crucial pieces missing. As with the churches …
10 February, 2010 at 5:05 pm
Well said. It’s like one of those alternative dimensions in Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials novels. So alike Scotland but somehow not quite right.
Then they burn your house down if you mess around.
10 February, 2010 at 6:14 pm
That sign by the railway station – Edinburgh 18,889 km – is a diversion, since there are occult tunnels for rapid transit between these two towns on opposite sides of the globe. It’s no coincidence, I tell thee, that there are so many Scots and Presbyterians down here. The skewed axis of world power, perhaps …
10 February, 2010 at 6:44 pm
could be the beginning of your first work of fiction!
10 February, 2010 at 7:33 pm
Chris is probably the name of the only person who is still going to that church
.
11 February, 2010 at 7:19 am
Or perhaps it is only for people with the name of Chris …
11 February, 2010 at 7:20 am
Um, Remy, I actually have an unpublished work of fiction – Right Behind: A Novel of the Arse-End of Time. The ms has been with Soft Skull Publications for an eternity. Perhaps another form of publication is the way to go.
19 February, 2010 at 8:43 pm
[...] under travel, weird | Tags: Annie Sprinkle, Dunedin, Slippery When Wet | Leave a Comment Deviant Dunedin strikes again, that slightly strange place where everything is not quite what it seems to be and [...]