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Stream of Consciousness

And they call them antipsychotics

Olanzipine makes you obese

Aripirazole makes you lactate

Clozapine makes you faint

But I’m not worried about the seniority of the doctors in charge

Who are too young to understand the sensitivity of the psyche

And its warrants to allow those with undue pressures to perform

To allow them to feel secure in the findings of medicine

They don’t understand the use of prescription medicine to help their cause

To understand feelings misjudging them as faithless beings

Inscribed with the factual and not informative.

I feel they are killing us successfully as they use their means to open doors they should leave shut and to close them is impossible once they begin their terror.

Picu is psychiatric intensive care which they do not do. They don’t care and leave you caged with your medicine until you adapt to their way of thinking.

It is sure to be the end of all thinking when they absolve themselves of all jurice prudence and allow the writing to say it all.

This is some time since I last wrote peotry

And therefore it is a little rough around the edges as

I strive for the perfect decimal state.

This is not going to be ease with which I can get

All the people back who visited my blog and then left

There is no need for it

There is no need for us

Just as there is no need for it

And therefore it is the need of the one who shall dominate

I.e. moi.  The one who writes the most during the

Course of the night and then sleeps

Through the day without solace nor haste since

It is the being that shall be seen on the morrow and

Not the seen-to.

As we speak so shall there be a new one to be

And that shall not be the one but the two.

Part I

There once was a day when everything was long.  Long in the tooth, long in the face, longing in the look.  Now that sort of day meant everything to me/him, since it began without a glimmer of hope but procured a modicum of solace from the fact that it did not hesitate to be a friend to those who want to be “it”!  For it was a game for children, this game of chasing one’s tail in order to make it for the years to come instead of settling down to an even place where nothing seems easy yet everything seems hard until one day you realise that nothing was possible in the first place therefore everything has to be in a new phase/place without there being need to be heartsore about everyone else.  There cannot be a new way without there being an old one so there be a new way such that nothing come without forgiveness.  This isn’t the first time he had thought so but nonetheless there is nothing with which to perceive the eventual laughter such that everything/nothing can be seen to a person except their lifestyle which is perchance only just coming together for him/me.  Therefore let’s take a look at his past-times from here until the present and see which of the 2 meet without there being some form of gentrification such that nothing has ever stopped them from trying.

{This isn’t going to be easy: some of which took place many ages ago and some of them tantamount to blasphemy upon the course of man due to the innate nature of it all. [The Altar Best – c.f. this book]}

Once in a blue moon there comes apparent a new cause vestial that runders the planet uneffectual to withstand nothing to do with this and that dear Planet makes us all unevocal to be sworn alliance to.  There isn’t even the time to make easy the preparations to be unsworn as these lead to the being of aforethought and this makes believe that nothing is unforsworn except perhaps dogma itself.  This isn’t even the belief that time isn’t unusual so this had better be the unique set therefore nothing is ever going to be easy unless we do it so:

There isn’t a path that isn’t a stereo without there being a single discipline that isn’t even going to be aware.  So get this:  nothing is heir-apparent unless it needs to be.

This isn’t an anamoly or an anomaly, this is the beginning so get with it!  This isn’t an actorism nor a nactorism so just get down and boogie!  This isn’t a contusion nor a contusioni so just agree that this is different.  This isn’t funtime it isn’t groove just fun-da-mental and augmentacious to the Extreme Mean.  Just live for it and forget.  For further there ain’t no time to disco, just to party and nothing can forsake this mess like the future.

Great!  So life is like a party, but not so evil into the take, make it stand but do not grovel, hovel into the night but do not fight night, just stop and deliver but do not forgive, sieve and grieve in the leave to be som in the bomb and hom in the nomb to be frit like a twit in the sum of the bumchum and see what can be skyfed from the byf in the tyf so skyf lekker my mate and skryf!

Summer is not what we call Cool so be dual and tra and give us a kans om to lekker to wees maar beskikbaar.  Om trots to wens geluk vir daardie ou wat beskerm trots hy hairstyle soos a boemelares met teen die wind se naar.  Sien tot in die wind assebleft nogal maar daardie is ouens was ouer is as wat jonker is nog so, wat?  Wat beskikkel  jy?  Dis maar slog nie vog nie dusselt to dieselfde nog as wat aan die weer is, net so skattie?  Daarom is nie te slegt nie?

Orraait!  Nal sal ons skom, net so?

This isn’t the time or the place for explanations, but the above comes direct from the mouth of my Great Aunt Mathilda Lewis, who used to be my favourite before, err eh-hum, she “gave birth” to an almighty birthmark that covered the legs, arms, nose and cheeks because she developed chilblains which gave rise to an enormous lump on her cheek and a huge swelling down under which she referred to has her “afterbirth” so to speak, ne Tannie? Or Jevrou? Or whatever taal you speak, ne?

Nou then, as ek maar vra dan wil ek sien nouvra Mattel, my seun?  Se sy maar eks dikwils nie onbekonnend hierondom en ek wens dat ek beskikkelbaar was maar nooit, ek meen nooit, sal ek onbeskommerd wees want aantyfel is dit soms nie so baie lekker nie om snaaks to wees nie.  Hoe se jy, Mattel?

Hokay, dis nie so snaaks nie, maar waar vra jy?  antwoord Mattel, skers bekommerd maar baie onbeskommerd.  Ek wil weet maar ek kan nie skiert jy wiet wants nie so onbekommerd met bedommerd en nie so skommerd met bedommerd, sien Nooi?

Dis nie omtreklik om so te wees maar beskibaar om noah te wees en so on…Nou/Now that isn’t the first time I have ever heard her sing like that but it could be the last, for her eintafel or yellow belly as she also likes to call it, is coming to an and, what with her new shoes or veldskoen and her end-of-call or Mother Nature, pretending to be false, has given her hopes of yet having twins, at her age Mister! – Please!

Iffn it helps then you should know that not all things come to an end so to speak.  Some things so and some things don’t but not all so listen to me and say (this is verbatim) Question not the author since this is all he can recall)

“What do you think is going to become of Mam, question!”

Answer.  What does one do with such a quotation strange though it may seem question.  Therefore what do one do without knowing question.  It would seem that there is remarkably few who dare understand who dare answer and say do you know what is question?

Say what question?  It doesn’t matter Mattel since noah is not to a goin to see this not in its entirety, either Mon, and so not need be a two finger tome but a feather stone man without need so better the devil you know that you don’t you might be sayin but this ain’t forgiven but forgiveness and anyway there might be a better way that’s all. [Accent for author’s benefit – to be corrected]

Iffn jy sien n word of skaplik iets wil ken dan moet jy seer of stuur maar nooit bestuur omdat dit kry of sky maar tjeks betaal in staal jy wee ten hulle sal nooit of skooit maar tiks dos skooit of nooit jy wiet of skiet bekende jong man dis al en betaal en skaal.

Then this mus be the en an no the twoof of scoof not bof of stof totdat ek n nog of dog mof soen to da di no t mo t da moe wees dan sal ek wil n sil of nil wil soen en Nooi sal nooit to vrede wees met my skalk of talc compleksities. Se Nooi, wat se dat dis n ander klaar sal wees en nie t more moet se nie afgeskakel dus n nuwe taal aan en soms moet n nuut een wens of skou ja question.

O no dis maar sjok elade maar dis mooi t skerm nie t sien of mean maar dis dikwels skerm om so te merm nie t sien mooi ne maar dis of t move en nie t groove mos skerm soos n grav met slav n nooi te gram ofskam met die watharm of karm maar wiet te skel of dwel ja so meneer question.  Ek het n groot problem om te sien en nie te bling en sing maar dis ooi te vol en dwol en nie te bol of skol maar altyd mol en sol of grol maar nie te skrol of dol nie nie te skerm of berm maar alles altyd te merm en beskerm en term en merm nie ques-tion nie.

Sien? Dis nie bevel of cool dis swaar en bedaar om so n onnosel te wees.  Dis nie bekommerd nie om so n twyfel te sien en nie bewaar of beklaar to wies en stuks and stones sal my nie harm nie.  Dis nie so n twyfel om beskommerd to wees wank dis nie opskop nie dis n groot bedrywel en betyfel om so lank in een tevrede nooi te wees en te nie nooit te groot te wees vir haar ne Jevrou of beskou as jy wil weet nie question nie maar vraag…..

Part ii

Nooi ek sal nie beskerm (jy) as jy dit wil.  Hoe bekommerd is jy daarvoor?

Hodon Son! Eks nie life vir julle nie els waarom sale k jou vry?  Daars iets daaroor vir my wat nogtans nooit sal believer nie.  Soms is daar nog n taal in my kop wat skielik oorsoms my soos jy dikwels onthou, soos bladsy uit my pen, jy week!?

Daarso!  Waarom?  Pee jy altyd soms ooruit die shnickel van die hoor!?

Ja Missie! Dis altyd so maar jy dik daarom altyd soms voor die lepel en nooit voor die pens hoor?  Ja dis diikwels skoon maar nie te waar dis skaar en onbewaar maar nie te skillend to onbeskillend jus nooit beskaarbaar en nooit beswaar jy weet en nogtans nooi dis nooi beswaar en eentans bevokken waar maar nie nou nie jy weet question.

Daarsy dis nie n bekommerd nie maar n komkommer wat biskikbaar is net so nooi wat jy vry soos n kat in n kombuis of so en daarnou een te vreedenis om skaar met die klaar te woon soos opie plaas van die Driehoek se plek waar daar nooit geen daarso is nieen so voort question.  Aanskakel tussen in en beweet dis nie so sleg nie opie land se vol maar nogtans is daar geen plek soos die woonplek van ons nie

[Life isn’t so good today so – Dr Aslam will be a pick not a stick a loaf not goaf so into the steed with mead if you see what I mean.  A mean stirrup not a hirrup a mean glen not a steamed pen if you know it’s so so be steel and meal don’t gleal it’s teal not speel or leal it’s meal and peel in the leal of the gleal.  i.e. don’t fuck up with the doctor take your notes but only if he asks should you show.  Just go with the flow and get out of here fast.]

Nooit in die stew dis maar ooit van te voort dis nie beskikkelbaar maar altyd besef dat iets nie verjaars wees as dit ooit sal betaal word want ooit is vanoffend maar ieks word beskaar.  Dis nie so heuwel om te spaar maar ooit dit tevore om my roemp te snorkel en wekkelend te troep maar sy’s nie n haar by de daar of bekaar my so.  Dis nie so swaar as wat ek skaar en dis n beroep van my vanoggend by bly so dis net so onbeskokkend en taalig diet en nie so plankrik of nofstof by sy moe en toue by sy mor vir kor en bor.  Nou, wat vanoggend in die moggend en betrou van beskou so verliewer met betriever en verskou met smou en veroempt met betroempt en veroempt met gestroompt en gestroompt met beroompt en beroompt met getroompt wees ke. Questioni?  Hokay nou wat van diesel met dirompt en alkal mos gevever word en narand moes betaal vir my sy. question.

En lankal wat voor die tyd wat bekeur met getroud en gemot met betroud wat skeer my ny maar die voortsel van di grond wat die mond sal opvond en die vond sal ondmond en die mond sal geesmond met gesinne van gisteraand delewer met gelewer. questioni

Wat sy is die gewaar vandie. Question “nogtan sal hy by die wereld kom gister by today se nuffel se tombstone.  Nee dis waar my waar my waar maar nie tevore nie.”

[Means life isn’t fucking fan!  Which means life isn’t made for fans, it’s made for fucking losers! i.e. All the fucking events watching winning fucking sportsmen and women, the crowd control etc is for fucking losers not enjoying life but sitting on their arses for hours at a time and thinking about it and talking about it and it’s all a tv spectacle.]

Copyright B E Saunders 2016

 

It isn’t the one who sees it is the one who sees it and sneers that wins the end game of love.  It isn’t the new but the ol’ that gets the dame and that is the fact of life. It is the nee who sees it and the nee who snares it not the nay and not the naytoo but the too to be nay and the too to be nay and the nay of the noo and the nay of the noo and the noo and the noo and the noo.

This means that although there is a new one in the same story as the one you are following right now, it is the new in the way that gets to see the bird and the one without the way and the noo who gets to sit in the car.

It came to pass one night that both he and she were about to get ready to get it on when it came to him that his buddy in the car might prefer to watch and therefore it came to being that they invited him up for a jar and a rep at the mark of Saul of Tysis and this is not the one who sees it but the one who sneers that did it.  That did it, huh? Well actually it was the one who did it not who did it since he was the one who brought up the subject of being cold in the car while he waited for them to get it on and get it down so this is not the end of the ga’ but the end of the ga-me so to speak. This is not the end but the begin so let us continue.

Let us see what becomes of the one who sneers while the one who sits gets a fit of tace in the mace and the mouth through the use of misnomer and misparagraphing. This is not going to be an easy fault to see since it is the police who mace him not the girl!  It is not the girl who is responsible it is the girl who is irresponsible and therefore gets the end of the nu and the end of the new and this is not the end of the nu but the start of the new friendship of ice and lemon tea.  So…

This is going to be the end and not the end if and this is not going to be the end if this is going ot be the end of and the end of the end and that makes the end the start of the start and the start of the start of the start of the start of the start of the start of the start. So…

This is going to be the start and forthwith I begin.

After she started to give him a blowjob she started to hum and that turned him on no end as she vibrated with her lips down his cock and it started to slee and slew as if it was alive by itself without nee’ of a knife to sort the shit from the cake so to speak – all was one and so it began to feel as if it was the end of the tie and the star’ of the shy and the uninhibited such that it was a real and not a role like it should.  This was not the way but the we and this led to the downfall of the air and pair as it should, they both started to get in the way of each other and this led to the star’ of a full compliment of tether and mether and so it was that she gave in and gave him the end of her ti’ and this led to the end of the sayquence not the sequence as they both knew it would.

This is not the begin, this is the stage of the event where they both star’ to feel that this could be a long relationship and thus it began – the sneer and the callgirl who would be both the end and the star of the show.  Both of them could not fee’ and this meant that neither of them could be without each other who knew them like the rest of them didn’t including the one who waited in the car.  This was not the one and this was not the one either but the one who could not be and could not fee’ and the one who could not fee’ was not the wen but the one who could and could not by chance and therefore this went into the li-fe of the show and party.

There is no way to say this other than to tell the truth so this is the truth – to get them into a new one so that they could enjoy the soul of their par-tay there was a need for they to be a new and this was not the one that they wanted but the one they selected for the rhyme of life was theirs for the taking and this led to their being unable to see and this led to their being unable to say or smell that their one was the one and their one was the one that did not get into the gear that they prescribed for the fitting occasion of their lovelife namely the rubber and glue of the nasal passage that was corrupt by their cocaine intake that gave way to their new think, namely their new think that was no one’s but their own.  This is not a psalm and so this is not a qualm neither it is a quotient of the rule of thumb that it could take a year or more before they could be a newfound love in the near or far of their existence.  That could be the end but it could be the send too.

This is going to be a short book so keep trying to follow.

This is going to be a short book so keep trying to follow. Naaah!

There once was a tie and it said “This is not a law it is a qui. IN other words it said that it is forbidden to get on with your loved one without needing to be a nu or a new and therefore it needed to be said that nothing that is nowt could be done to stop the real from getting into trouble with the law i.e. there is not way of getting into the trouble of the law without getting into the trouble with the sky itself who caught the gender of the romance without getting the gender of the distance such that no one could do and no one could say and this led to the begin of the begin and no it was not the one it was the one who was not the one and this is not the end this is the begin and so…

Okay – enough of this trash as I try to exume the story from the midst of the repetitive tres anglais post renaissance participle of soun’ and give the red to the blue for a keepsake and discuss the way forward with the storyline such that it knows but does not know the way through.

Now there is a new and this is it – to be or not, there is a way that does not get in and that does not get ou’ either.  It is a nu as in nu, which is the en’ of the we’ and the en’ of the wu and the en’ of the wu tan fu which is the en’ of the wu and the won and therefore is the won that does not get in but gets in withou’ the nu so…try this; there is a nu that does not get in and that does no’ get ou’ and thus it is the wu that gets the in and it is the wu that gets the wo’ as in the won and only that is the sher.  Sher is not the sure but the sher as in the tiger.  Tiger is the wu and the wa’ but the wa’ is not the wa it is the wu and the wa and so it is the wa’ and the wa’ is the wa’ and the wa’ as we mean to be saying.  Therefore there is a wa’ that is not the wa’ but the way and this is the way so get this – there is a way that is not the way but the wa and that is the wa but the wa s not the wa and so it is the wa and the wi and the wi is the wi and so gets forte i.e. strong.  Question mark. Have we got it?

There is a way to see this thru and that is to see that there is a one and a numb and the numb is a numb that is quik to see that this is the en’ and no’ the begi’ and so.

End of.

Copyright B E Saunders 2016

Life isn’t so bad now he’s on the streets.  No cats to take care of, no amyl nitrate to consume.

“It’s too bad it isn’t forever” he said foregivingly.  “For it isn’t for some.  It’s too bad she didn’t give a shit, but that’s the way, innit?” he asked the tree.  “It’s too bad she didn’t give a pitstain for me, truf be told.  I ain’t anybody’s Momma’s boy and I don’t care who knows it, y’see?”

The amyl n. was wearing off now and he could feel his fingers and toes again, which was good.  He decided to nod off, to “catch some beddybyes” by the seashore where it was safe and cooler from him.  Now he could see the waves and it was good to feel sheltered in the lee of this old Potomac river where it met the Atlantic shore in a level basin. He pulled off his top and made his way down to the sea.  He didn’t care who was watchin’, for it was near midnight on this strange shore of the Chesapeake Bay.

He hadn’t been here for four days before shit happened, losing his wallet, keys, everything getting dog-faced in that shit-kickin’ bar they call Fresno’s on Fosse Point in downtown Baltimore.

That was the day before and now here he was, having hitched a ride from a friendly, very friendly housewife who told him he could share her house and her bed until her husband returned home Friday night.  This Friday which was still two days away. So he took up the offer and was soon fast asleep in the front seat of her car, or “van” as she preferred to call it, though it was still a car to him.  With the front seat down he could lay full stretched and soon she was perched on top of him, pulling him out of his pants and stuffing him inside herself still half-hard.  She had that way of squishing down until their pubes were rubbing and he came full on up behind her belly button as she gave a yell and said: “Whoa! I’m not on the pill, Buddy!” and slid off distractedly, shaking her hair to one side and stepping back to her own carseat.

Man, what a rush! She helped herself to some tissues and blotted her crotch with the white gelly oozing out. “Got some!” she cried.  “Oh wow, you are a handsome boy, I can tell by the works you gave me.  C’mon move over, you can drive!”

Pretty soon they were well down the hi-way to her place.  He could tell first off there was something crazy about her but now as he sat back and loosened up behind the steering which was fast and sharp, he could see, glancing right, that she was quite right. It felt so he could feel the glint of steel in her eyes and her mind played tricks on him as they chatted.

“Where you from, boy?  You told me your from Liverpool, but which part?  It’s a big country, you know?”

“A scouse is a scouse no matter where he’s headed, you know?” he replied.  “It’s no’ like you need to know much other than I come from north of the river.  That’s Everton land that is!”

“Ah, Everton, that’s one of your soccer teams.  Well we don’t play much of that over here, though there’s plenty of need to kick a few balls if you see what I mean?” she smiled, sneering. “You’ve seen a bit of action these last couple of days, my little pussycat, haven’t you?  You better pull over for a bit of kissin’ and cuddlin’ with your Aunt Jemima.  C’mon, there’s a space over here where we can call home for a while.”

“This ain’t the jetsons my dear.  I ain’t on full throttle.  Take it easy on the taxi driver, you know what I’m sayin’?”

“Listen, it ain’t no use playin’ coy.  You know what I’m into so let’s give it a try.  Maybe this time you won’t squirt so easily and you can give me a little try.”

“Elf!” he cried five minutes later, coming up for breath. “C’mon, stop that and get down honey!  Mother needs to come like a boy needs a swing and that ain’t no bing that’s boom, my sugar.”  She grabbed behind his neck and pushed his face back into the stiff curls of her fanny, waiting for his tongue to begin its probing. “Oooh Baby – come on!  Give it to me!  Put yo fingers up my ass and let me feel you need it too.  Fill me with your feathers, c’mon, let’s beat and no retreat!”

He grasped some curls and pulled, but still she wouldn;t let up.pushing hard and grinding her hips til his face was on fire with friction burn.  He let his tongue taste her salt again, and was repulsed by the feeling of a strange lump between the wads of flesh.  He took it between his teeth….and pulled away.  Oh no!  He pulled back desperately, spitting with a “yack!” Uh, blood.  A jelly clot of red that stained his teeth and ran down his chin.

“Oh Jees!  I must have just started!” she grinned.  “Sorry Baby, sometimes tha’s just what it takes.  You don’t mind, do you?”

He shut her mouth with a slap.  “Bitch! Don’t you come that with me, whore!  You knew!”

“Aw Jeez Baby – don’t be like that!  I’s just showin’ you the way home.  To the period.”  Her face wasn’t smiling. “Now get out you fox-hole hunter.  Out now!  And i don;t want to see you coming back, you hear?  No one, but no one, touches me like that!  And I hope to hear you dead in the morning.  It’s hunting season tonight!  Hear the fullmoon?  Dogs is barking and there’ll be a Sheffield full of Thomas by this Friday – so don’t be thinkin’ I need you ‘cos I don’.”  Sheffield was her husband.

“Jeez Louise!  How’m I goin’ to get out of this lot!” he thought, pitching out of the swinging wide back doors of the van/car into the silent night.  He landed face down thanks to a helpful foot from her, and it made splendid her triumph, his white ass aglow in the streetlight’s narrow glow over the layby. Next he took it in the head, and the strength disappeared from his arms and he plunged forward onto his face, unconscious.

**************************************************************

When he came to he was hide-bound and stripped naked, to a tree.  His amphora was full, meaning he had a big white git up him, cruising past his archway, pinioning him to the wall of pain.  “Enough!” he said.  “Stop, please, for fuckssake!”

“That’s enough of that, boy!  There’s enough cussin’ round here and that’s for me!” and a fist rattled his brains.

“Jeez man! Please.  I just wanta breathe,please.  It hurts!” he groaned as the man split him with fierce thrusts.

“This’ll teach you to hurt a woman!  I don’t care what you find in her pussy!” he shouted.  “Take that!  And this!  And this!” The pain was excrutiating and he could feel his willy past his gonads and pressing against his sphincter, into submission. “Ooagh!” the git came in spasms that he felt as the faintest heat, before he let go and pulled away. Immediately his tingling sphincter snapped shut like a door, trapping his ooze within.

“You black bastard!” the git shouted.  “Get ready for more!  Time for some tricks!” and he thrust a handful of capsules under his nose.  “You know these before boy?  We’ll have you enjoying this before the night’s over!  Here girl, your turn.” He twisted his head and in the feint light, sure enough, he could see it was his big breated bitch, with her tongue hanging out.

“Okay dear, now I don’t want this to hurt so I’m going to take you my way.  You’ve heard of a back-stabber?  Well I’m a frontman and we’ve been looking at you all night. Maybe we took your passport too, for all you know.  Now you’re stuck, alive in America, without money, nothin’, and now you’re ours,boy, at least for a couple of days, maybe a week.  You’ve heard of an emerald shower?  Well, it comes from across the water.  We’re Irish here boy, and we hate you scousers ever since you first sodomised our wives during the great potato famine!”

“But I’m no’! I’m no’!  I come from the Ivory Coast for fuck sake!” he cried, tears rolling down his cheeks.  “My parents come from slaves!  We’ve never fucked your white asses.  We’re the ones who got focked!”

“Ah, shame now laddie!” He put on a broad Scots accent, pitiful for his American twang. “Now give us some mo’!” and he pulled out a strap and began heelin’ for all his worth, bringing threads of rd blood to his already blistered back.  “Tis is for all the lyin’, stealin’, defraudin, sweaten’, bullshittin’ ye have done over the years!  I see you’re only young son, but you’ll learn! Us southern types don’t heed no truck off you black, gaff, synod lovin’ albino-plastered, red-neck sons of bitches!” and he continued weighing into Silas for all he was worth.

“Jeez!  Jeez!  Fock! Fock!  Jeez!” wailed Silas, the poor scots bastard that he was.  “Oh my fuck, stop! Stop! I’ll do anythin’ you wan’.  Just sto’. Pleeze!”

“Oh right, now you’re feelin’ a bit more obligatory?  That’s the speed, meed!  Okay, cut him down, let’s see the craft of his navel!” and she grasped the nape of his neck while the git slashed his bonds.  She pulled him backwards so he toppled on his back like a tortoise.  She quickly looked down and bent to squeeze his nipples in a shank grip.  He squealed at again.

“No! No! I said anythin’!  I’ll do it!  Anythin'”

“Aaah my poor baby!  Maybe we need to give him some!” and she carcked a capsule under his nose.  “C’mere, man friend, let’s get us some goat!”  Without speaking the git grabbed Silas’ dreadlocked hair and pulled it into his chest, so he could “feel” it, then wiped his unzipped ass with it having pulled a tuft clean out.

“Here – eat this!” as he shoved it into Silas’ mouth.  He spat and some come trickled out as he coughed.

“Phwuh!” he said.  He grabbed his balls.  “Come and get me faggot!” and rushed for the trees on all fours, capable of amazing speed now that death stood before him.  He hit a tree trunk and fell back, dazed.  His chasing git hit the tree too but this time came down festooned in lice because the tree was half dead.  The creepy crawlies had him scared witless, such was their coverage of his face and scalp.

“Uuurgh!”The git shook himslef wildly, hands clambering at his face.

“Heyah!” Silas lashed out with his foot, catching the git in the nuts.

“Sirrah!” yelled the woman, calling to her friend who was hiding in the bushes and Sirrah (or Sarah) turned out to be a very tall bird indeed.  She stepped out, festooned in camera equipment which fell to the floor.  She held out a hand and pulled the wench after her in the direction of the car/van which still stod idling (it was one of those iconic cherry-wood shaped chevvies)

Silas got back on all fours and took off under the trees for a dip in the ground ahead which he could feel beheath his hands. He tumbled, rolling the length of his shingear, up tohis anus in thorny brush but free of all pursuit.

Hs git was gone, back to the car too, so he was left alone to lick his wounds.  Ahead was the sound of rushing water, so he made for it.  It wasn’t the time for duck, so he felt safe from the threatened hunters.  He shoved his way through the last bushes and out onto the narrow strip of beach.