Draft First Chapter

A novel of some sort.

One

I press my finger into the sticky liquid pooled on the floor. It glides across the tiles with ease, leaving a little glimpse of the white tiles underneath. It's getting thicker and cooled down far faster than I thought it would. I lift my finger and look at the rich glossy red liquid clinging to the tip. 

I have the urge to lick my finger. I don't, but I want to. Do you know what I mean? Do you ever get that? The urge to do the wrong thing? It's almost mouthwatering. The metallic smell rises and licks the inside of my nostrils. I want to savour every single moment of this. 

Today's to-do list is long; this is just the start of things I need to do. Wiping my finger across my dirty jeans, it leaves a stain that is more brown than red. I'm not sure what I expected - it wasn't that, though. 

My Converse makes an annoying loud squeaky sound that rings around the bathroom. 

I pause. Considering all of my options, I surmise quickly that I don't have any right now. Or… or do I? On the floor sprawled out like a heap of chopped meat, quite literally, is… or was, a prick of a man. 

I'm tempted to run my hands along his sweat-covered fat cheeks; they're grimy too. If I'm perfectly honest, he already smelled like a carcass. I've been around a few dead animals in my time - I know the smell well. The odd deer in the woods, an unfortunate rat that had been slightly chewed up and delivered to my doorstep by my beautiful, if mildly unhinged, cat. 

My back pocket begins to vibrate… what time is it? Fuck sake. It's 3.30 pm. The kids get out at 3.30 pm; I'm late - I didn't account for how long it would take to dismember a human body. You see, I think we're friends now so I'll explain it to you. Or at least explain some of it. 

You might not be able to stomach all of it. Let's see, though. Let's see. 

I watched a YouTube video lately about how to make Hainanese chicken, and that is what gave me the urge… wait, no. The idea that I could do that - but on a larger scale. 

You slide the knife along the spine you see, press hard so that the meat comes away from the body, and crack the ribs too. Using a sharp butcher's knife, you slam it down on the joints so they sort of just pop away from the body. It's not as easy as it looks - not even close. But, and this surprised me too, you know. It wasn't too dissimilar.

Fancy that? Thanks, YouTube!

I'm late to pick up my babies, so I have to leave this meat sack here - for now. I'll be back to deal with it, though. As I said, I have a list of things to do. 

I'm going to grab my extra stuff out of the boot. You see, my friend, I always keep extra clothing in the car. I like to walk in the woods, and from time to time, it's muddy. Spare joggers, a warm hoody, hiking socks and boots are always in my car.  

It turns out that it is always better to be prepared. Anyway, let's go - I've got to get the kids. 

Thoughts:

For fun, I had a bash at NaNoWriMo. Somehow at the end of it - with a lot of mushrooms and encouragement from both my brother, who is an illustrator, and an author (and excellent friend), Jordan Garvey (she has a Substack that is of much more substance than this one) - I found myself clocking out just over the 50k words with a few days to spare.

And while I look at all of the options for editing and the camps for that, I doubt if I will ever edit it properly. And I don’t think that it is worth submitting for consideration to a publisher.

And no, that isn’t being shy or self-deprecating; it’s not wholly my style, but more that this was a fun project for me, and nothing ruins fun faster than putting a price on it.

I can see immediately a couple of things I would change, but since I had no plan, no outline, no characters and basically fuck all, what spilled out was possibly the most unreliable narrator and a story that goes here there and everywhere.

I haven’t decided if the rest will follow here, or not. I haven’t decided a fucking thing.

Just on the off chance you do want to read more of my unpolished word spaff, subscribing is your best bet.

Listening to:

Reading:

The Yellow Wallpaper - Charlotte Perkins Gilman. Here’s an excerpt:

I personally like the cover of my copy, here is the link for that one: The Yellow Wallpaper. An affiliate link, so if you buy a copy then I get some pence - not from you.