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They would be forced to stay here for a night because Phil was so fat his feet were ruined merely by walking outdoors.
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Or did Phil know that Luke had slept with Michelle, a year before he met Phil?
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Sixteen years ago, but he could still recall her hissing beneath him, like a cat, not to mention the way she rolled her eyes back until they were white when she came. Shamefully, after he ejaculated, he had not only struggled to find anything to like about her, but realized he actually disliked her.
‘The last thing this place feels is holy.’
He seemed satisfied that there was no danger, which alarmed Luke,
‘Can you get across that?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘For real?’ ‘Yes for fucking real.’ ‘OK then. Let’s do it.’
‘I can’t go any further.’ Dom stared between his knees, at the ground he had slumped upon.
When they found Phil hanging from a Scots pine, they didn’t linger.
Don’t move. It’s the worst thing you can do with a head trauma.
He licked the wet bark of a tree.
Dom was no longer with him.
In this place of his salvation, the air tasted unclean.
He opened his wooden lips and exposed his gritty mouth to the taste of neglect:
And why did they wear their shoes inside the house?
Bad things didn’t happen around grandmothers.
If only we could all stand up. All of us who have died unjustly for the Gods of the insane. There would be so many of us.
‘I saw your old house. I was there. You used to string them up over a basin. You showed me. Did you suckle your God on blood?’