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Enough Ribena to
Incarnidine the Multitudinous Seas
My sister once made a gaggle of gingerbread pirates I imagined to be
destined for doughy, doughty deeds, so gallant were they. I simply could not
bring myself to eat them, had neither the heart nor the stomach to do so.
The spice boys remained in battle formation on the kitchen table, but I
could smell their sensuous, exotic aroma from my bedroom, even behind closed
door.
That night, I had a vivid dream in which the biscuit buccaneers, still under
the influence of the self-raising flour, rose ithyphallic from the baking
tray. Leaping from the counter, they legged it upstairs to gang-bang the
Play-Doh model of the Girl Next Door I had lovingly sculpted and kept
secretly beside my comics and sensible shoes.
Breakfast, the morning after, I binged ravenously on the randy homunculi,
biting off their heads with sheer abandon, tearing away at their limbs and
washing them down with enough glasses of Ribena to incarnadine the
multitudinous seas.
Andrew Gallix's fiction has appeared in over twenty online and print magazines and one of his stories won the author.co.uk prize for Best Short Story 2000. He lives in Paris where he teaches at the Sorbonne and edits 3AM Magazine.
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