My body ballooned in the bathtub. My scrotum was a magical sea creature. I watched it bob before annointing myself with oils.

Then I ate a plate of bigos. No two plates.

Then I entered the house of zabka and said pa prush sha do va LM na bel ski. That means two packs of cigarettes. The lady who served me was missing her eyebrows.

I want to be an interesting story like a bowl of tangerines.

We are waiting for the first star. It is 16.03. It should arrive at 16.40. When it arrives we will break bread wafers. And then the carp will arrive. Spineless. At the table.

It’s Christmas Eve in Poland. And other places. Too.

Published by Marcus Slease

Born in Portadown, Northern Ireland, Marcus Slease has made his home in such places as Turkey, Poland, Italy, South Korea, the United States, Spain, and the United Kingdom – experiences that inform his nomadic surrealist writing. His latest book is Never Mind the Beasts (Dostoyevsky Wannabe 2020).

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