I had a leftover chicken leg and some knockoff

I had a leftover chicken leg and some knockoff Sriracha sauce. He had ham and cheese with the crusts cut off, chips and apple juice. I said "Trade?"

"Anything's better than this rubbish," he said and handed me his sandwich while I gave him my chicken. But it was clear he wanted to take back his words as soon as he took a bite.

But a lunch trade was final. No takes back. He chewed with palpable remorse. I had passed the chicken with the curse in it to him. Now he would be plagued by the most foul and evi

l thing in the world, the Great Flu. It looks like a normal flu but each time you sneeze, a bit of your organs are crushed inside. It's the work of the microorganisms that infect

chickens. Stop kissing chickens now! But humankind continued interacting with chickens willy-nilly & the Great Flu got into pipes worldwide crumpling livers and squashing spleens

Indeed, it was ostentatious like a bag of plums! I don't even like plums: except for Tuesdays where a virgin woman calls me Peter and greases the spaces between my toes.

Sometimes I wonder what i'm doing with my life once I get into these situations. It's almost as if someone is cutting together parts of my life for the sake of humour. How odd...

it is to see the earth from the rear window of the rocket; a gigantic blue ball getting slowly smaller and smaller. I wonder if they have discovered I have left yet.

The on-ship phone rings. I pick up and hear deep throaty breaths and then the line goes dead. I take a sip of brandy and light up a space cigar. My gun is holstered, for now.