Stories From The Head

The Last Breath It was raining heavily outside. Murip was staring out the window. He hadn’t realised it before, but he was in love. He felt  strange sensation in his liver, which made him shudder all the way up to his erotic love cave. She hated him, he knew that. He gave her a lot of money, but when she wouldn’t love him he asked for it in return. Her name was FETT, and she was a walking boil. Fat, spotty and extremely wrinkled, she was everything a man could want. Only one thing was missing: SHE HAD NO ARMS! But Murip didn’t care. It only made her more exotic and mysterious. Murip heard from his cousin that FETT had been in an accident, and he knew that it was now or never. He had to make his move. Murip told FETT that he loved her by her hospital bed. She answered ”No, you don’t. You never did!”. Then she drew her last breath, and died...

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