Monday, February 24, 2020

Depression. Rhodie Tony faces suicide.


Depression. Rhodie Tony faces suicide.

This was IT. The end. To exterminate, never to have passed his seed on to procreate a litter of like minded lunatics.

Tony was not a virgin. He had been sodomised by his best friend when he was 15.

Now at the age 36, it was time up. To go where all dead souls go
– fucking nowhere, but he didn’t know that- he would only find out later.

So, there he was, balancing totally drunk on a bridge crossing a tributary of the Mecumbura River, Zimbabwe. The fall looked awesome. Closing his eyes, crossing his heart and promising to die
– he jumped. Well, not exactly jumped, more like a shuffle off a pavement, but down he went.

Down, down he went. Tony’s last thoughts were ‘Oh how I wished I had fondled Mrs Gunther’s breasts.’ (His former maths teacher.)

It seemed to last forever
– a bit like the crap your reading - as the tributary was dry, the small, bit of concrete as a bridge, was just two meters above a sandy bed. Tony hit the deck, almost breaking his fucking  neck, staggered up, a bit disoriented …

And

Lives to tell how he escaped from being a prisoner of the Taliban.

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