Sunday, 7 June 2009

The Fly

"Something went wrong in the lab today. Contamination."

No further explanation, he grew twitchy, finger nails bitten to the quick. Thick hair on his back.

It wasn't all bad. Christ, he was fit. Rampant. Fun for a while, but I soon needed a break. I heard he was trawling bars, brawling. Ripped some guys wrist off in an arm wrestle. A week later, a rasping phonecall. I gasped when I saw him. Blisters, lesions, spitting up bile. All the time he swore he could fix it. I didn't tell him I was late. The next day, bug eyed pickling things in jars, limbs. He wouldn't see a doctor, not even when his cock dropped off.

I was getting bigger. I pictured it inside curled up like a gub. Friends say get rid. Who wants a kid with wings?

Mike Edwards 2009

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