The Adoptee

The Adoptee did not start life in Glasgow, but she has embraced the city with the confidence of someone who has already decided it is wonderful. She is enthusiastic, stylish, generous in her opinions and almost impressively resistant to disappointment.

She sees the world through rouge-tinted sunnies. The people are lovely. The food is fabulous. The shops are marvellous. The view is gorgeous. Even a mild inconvenience has usually become a charming little story by the time she has finished describing it.

She is fiercely adopted rather than pretending to be native. Glasgow is a place she chose, which gives her affection a slightly different flavour: delighted, observant and full of the things locals sometimes stop noticing because they see them every day.

The Adoptee also knows she is fabulous. Coats, scarves, sunglasses, Frasers bags and a carefully chosen coffee are not accessories so much as evidence. She is rarely underdressed for anything, including sitting on a wall beside the Clyde.

There is one subject the flock never discusses. The Adoptee is, quite plainly, a seagull. She has no idea. Nobody mentions it. This arrangement has proved remarkably stable and there is no obvious reason to interfere with it.