Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Don't Cry For Me Aberystwyth

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Aberystwyth at Christmas. The smell of pine drifts along the Prom mingling with the reek of bladderwrack, toffee apple, vanilla and wet donkey fur .... in a filthy alley in Chinatown a man in a red-and-white coat with a long white beard lies dead in a pool of his own gore. The cruel melancholy of his death is heightened by an extra finesse: his manhood has been hacked off and placed in his mouth.
Aberystwyth at Christmas.
Compliments of the Season.

Malcolm Pryce
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