In 2024, the Scottish Arts Trust started a category in their Flash Fiction awards called “True Flash” – for memoir or creative non-fiction. It was very appealing to try this. This is partly sharing personal experience, but also describing a common experience for the older female motorist.
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It Comes to Us All
“Excuse me. This is your bladder speaking. We’ve been on the road for over an hour, and you know how the vibration stimulates your kidneys. Please stop and empty me.”
“Be patient.” I reply with the confidence of a woman half my age. “You know the A-road toilets are such a lottery. Some haven’t been cleaned since the millennium. You must wait for the motorway services.”
“Oooh!” My belly purrs. “And there you can buy a lovely sausage roll. There’s no point calorie-counting at your age.”
“Watch out!” Shouts the satnav into my hearing aids. “Accident ahead!”
The traffic slows, crawls and halts.
“Oh shit!” I swear loudly and bash the steering wheel, just like people in cars do.
“I’m sure you don’t want to bring me into this…” growls my irritable bowel.
“Fear not!” My brain chimes in, sensing my mighty dread. “I have a plan. Pull in at the next lay-by. Perhaps you can head into the woods.”
“Ugh!” I object. “For a wild wee I need a urethra like a jetwash and mine thinks it’s a sprinkler!”
The traffic crawls forward. Layby ahead. Thank God. (These days, I need divine help to manage bodily functions.)
“Hurry up!” Urges my bladder, twisting like a torturer.
I swing into the layby. But there are no bushes! Farewell dignity. Needs must. I clamber out and open both passenger-side doors wide.
“Squat low!” My brain commands, but my knees scream “NO!”
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An earlier version of this story was longlisted for the Edinburgh True Flash Award in 2024
This story was featured on BBC Upload on the 27th March, 2025
