An Other Place

by Darren Dash

The arse cheek wasn’t all

that bad. There was a waxy taste to it – I suppose that’s inevitable – but it was more appetizing than the raw sap, nicely prepared and served, in appearance and texture a bit like dry fish. I was able to pretend it was an adventurous vegetarian dish. Mind you, there was one palate-juddering moment when I realised a waxy little bump that had been puzzling me must once have been a glistening buttock pimple.

Nobody ever hears the screams of the dead.

The future stretches out ahead of me like a desert and I don’t know what I want of it.