| Dan Smith |
Where's My Party
read by james o'dwyer It's coming soon, right? Lord knows I've earned it, back bent like a scythe, a labourer in my father's field. Not one goat has bled for me, although I've fed them pearls the swine wouldn't touch, each day of every year that my brothers stumbled between orgies. They wake hungover in the sty one day, and run back to the rich daddy in the story who waits on the road in the corner of my eye, with that coloured coat and pimp ring and the cow I fattened myself. And I still feed the pigs but maybe this week is my turn. I'm in my Sunday best, mingling with red-wine-lipped prodigals; maybe today's embrace will be for me - the son who never had to come home. |