While Laura looks for something to carve with, I sit by the meat and think about my last conversation with Dylan, saying he needed us to be more open. I thought he was talking about honesty, not that skank from the coffee shop. Then Laura turns up grinning, with an electric knife and a derelict hacksaw. I let her have the power and take the antique. Truncating a leg I hear cuts of his speech, the teeth sinking deeper with every repeat. I ask Laura if she’d mind stopping somewhere after this, I want to start seeing other people.
Nic Addenbrooke is a freelance writer, editor, content creator, radio broadcaster, part-time poet and sometimes artist. Nic has been coming to terms with existence for years. He currently lives and works in Brisbane where he struggles to turn the cacophony of voices in his head into things of substance. It doesn’t always work but occasionally produces a nice veneer of sanity.