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Combining

Me and my mate Katie have always kept a record. For her it was-

cake

cake

cake

cake

cake

sex

cake

cake

cake

cake

cake

cake

cake.

So I started to call her Cream Bun. She didn’t like that. Said she was jealous. Because for me it was-

sex

sex

sex

sex

sex

sex

cake

sex

sex

sex

cake

sex

sex

sex

sex

sex

I said to her, that’s my Darren for you, isn’t it? A man obsessed. I actually told Darren I’d like a bit more cake and a bit less sex. Let’s combine the two, he said. He bought a cream horn. A cream horn! Perhaps, Darren. We’ll see. But when I let him, he ate most of it. Right there. From me. I just got his salty lickings.

I can’t record that as cake, Darren, can I? It might have been for you but not for me. It’s going down in the records as sex. He said he didn’t care how I classified it. That he wanted to do it again.

Anyway, Darren and I drifted apart. (Actually, I told him to fuck off). So for me it became-

cake

cake

cake

cake

cake

cake

cake

cake

cake

cake

cake

Which was perfect. For a while.

Things change though, don’t they? These days Darren’s going with my mate Katie, or Cream Bum as I now call her. She’s happy. For now.

And I’ve just met Jared—who says he’s a big sausage fan. Could be worse, I reckon. But no mash for me, thanks Jared. Even if there’s a spring onion in it.


Flash Fiction by John Holland

Published in Summer 2017

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