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Organ - Chapter 2

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ORGAN Chapter Two Tranquilly dull intermittent bleeps from an unseen machine chimed away as Oscar slowly came to his senses, his location a foggy splitting mystery, his head still clouded with half memories of the incident at home that evening. Feeling an unpleasant sting in his nostril he explored around his face clumsily with tired hands, a thin plastic hose trailed from his chest and up into his nose, the realisation immediately made Oscar loudly gag as his eyes filled with water.  His movements had finally caught the attention of a member of staff from the hospital who hustled into the room and firmly pulled the young man’s hands away from his face, rescuing the breathing tubes that now barely hung in place. The nurse stood readily by his side until the boy’s mother came rushing in, clattering into the doors and walls as she swung her bag under arm, she grabbed for his hands with tears in her eyes. “ What happened?” Oscar breathed out in a confused dreary voice. “You fainted...

Corpse Avoidance - Poem

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Some time ago I took on the role, burying the dead and scattering the bones. It never dawned on me that I might come unstuck, or that these tools in hand would leave me here. We buried another baby. Second one this week. Fuck. Give me the bottle, a lunchtime drink. It’s worth it for the sorrow, it can drown with the fizz. Tipsy digging holes, it makes it seem so childish. The laughing and the smiling in the most sinister of worlds. Christ. I wish I left that last pint, It went straight through my head. I can’t see straight on the drive back, judgement from the waiting dead. Shit. I feel the smoke hitting me, the moving scenes and shaking woods. Trees drifting sideways, a river of wonderful mess. It would take an inhale and a puff to choke my chest. Don’t worry about the afternoon. We've got all tomorrow to dig. Exhale with me you dead folk. Drink and smoke again.

A Brief Account of an Unfortunate Packet of Crisps

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  A Brief Account of an Unfortunate Packet of Crisps Whatever really happened didn’t matter in the end, not in the great scheme of things. Daily life went on before, and it certainly went on after – albeit a tad more fantastical. But whether the story you are about to read seems strange, I must inform you with the utmost sincerity that despite one death, one thrown out police report and a burial of a story from all government bodies, a day like the day a packet of crisps became sentient will never be seen again. Did the crinkling of the shiny greasy foil make enough noise to wake them up, perhaps it was the chemicals being tested in the new formula for preparing the potato products. One thing was evident though as the first individual crisp woke from non-existence into complete sentience, the world got just a pinch weirder. “Where am I?” One crisp asked. “Who said that?” another answered. This went back and forth between the thirty or so dried snacks for a while longer than i...