Read Online Marabou Stork Nightmares by Irvine Welsh - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Irvine Welsh
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What the fuck is this?
— But I think he's going to come out of it. There's definitely increased signs of brain activity. I wouldn't be surprised if he could hear us. Take a look at this, Dr Goss . . .
FUCK OFF!
The cunt wrenches open my eyelids and shines a torch into them. Its beam shoots right down into my darkened lair and I skip into the shadows to avoid its light. Too quick for these cunts.
—Yes, we're definitely getting some sort of reaction. A very positive sign, says one of the doctors, I forget their names, they all sound the same to me.
— I don't think you're doing enough to help us, Roy. I don't think you're doing enough to get well, says the other. I'll call him Middle-class English Cunt One and the other Middle-class English Cunt Two in order to differentiate them.
— I think we have to increase the stimulus and the number of tests, says Middle-class English Cunt Two.
— Yes Dr Park, says Nurse Beverly Norton.
— Those tapes his family brought in. Keep them going, suggests Middle-class English Cunt One.
So I'm to be subjected to increased harassment, and my energies, which should be concentrated on getting me deeper, deeper into my world, my story, my hunt, now have to be diverted into keeping these fuck-wits out.
— Listen Roy. We're doing our best for you. You have to want to get better, says
Middle-class English Cunt One, bending over me. I feel his rancid breath in my nostrils. Oh yes, just you keep that up ya cunt, because if I do come out the first thing ah'm gaunny fuckin well dae is tae rip yir fuckin queer English face apart wi ma chib . . . but fuck, naw man, naw . . . ah'm gettin too fuckin close tae the surface, cause ah feel masel at the top ay the ladders which run up the side ay the deep deep well, half-way down being my lair, further down still the beautiful blue skies of Africa, the world ah just drop into but now I'm right at the fuckin top, right at the top, pushing at the trapdoor and some shards of light are coming through . . .
I feel his rancid breath
DOWN
DEEPER
DEEPER – – – – –
—Funny, I thought that there was something there for a bit . . . must just be my imagination. Anyway, let's move on. Thank you. Nurse.
Exit the bools-in-the-mooth cunts.
—Did you hear that Roy! Two doctors today! Dr Park and Dr Goss. And they're pleased with you. You have to work a little bit harder though, lovey. I'm going to put on the nice tape that your mum and your brother made for you. That brother of yours, Tony, is it? He's a saucy one and no mistake. I think he's interested in some of our younger nurses. Anyway, here you are:
The minute you walked in the joint, I could see ye were a man of distinction, A real big spender . . .
Thank you but no fuckin thank you Bev-ih-leey, chuck. Bring back Patricia Devine. Come back Patsy, Patsy De Cline, all is forgiven . . .
Suppose you'd like to know what's goin on in ma mind.
DEEPER
DEEPER
DEEPER– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –Peace.
part two
The City
Of Gold
5 Into The City
Of Gold
Our first home in South Africa was a few rooms in Uncle Gordon's large house in the north-eastern suburbs of Johannesburg. Uncle Gordon was fond of saying that we were as 'far away from Kaffirtown (Soweto) as it was possible to get and still be in Jo'burg'.
Though I was just a kid, my impression of the city was of a drab, bleak modern place. It looked spectacular from the sky as we circled over it on our way to landing at Jan Smuts International Airport, named, John proudly told me, after a South African military man who was a big pal of Winston Churchill's. It was only when we saw it from the ground that I realised it was just another city and that they all looked better from the sky. Close up, downtown Johannesburg just looked like a large Muirhouse-in-the-sun to me. The old mine dumps provided a diminishing backdrop to the ugly skyscrapers, highways and bridges which had long
What the fuck is this?
— But I think he's going to come out of it. There's definitely increased signs of brain activity. I wouldn't be surprised if he could hear us. Take a look at this, Dr Goss . . .
FUCK OFF!
The cunt wrenches open my eyelids and shines a torch into them. Its beam shoots right down into my darkened lair and I skip into the shadows to avoid its light. Too quick for these cunts.
—Yes, we're definitely getting some sort of reaction. A very positive sign, says one of the doctors, I forget their names, they all sound the same to me.
— I don't think you're doing enough to help us, Roy. I don't think you're doing enough to get well, says the other. I'll call him Middle-class English Cunt One and the other Middle-class English Cunt Two in order to differentiate them.
— I think we have to increase the stimulus and the number of tests, says Middle-class English Cunt Two.
— Yes Dr Park, says Nurse Beverly Norton.
— Those tapes his family brought in. Keep them going, suggests Middle-class English Cunt One.
So I'm to be subjected to increased harassment, and my energies, which should be concentrated on getting me deeper, deeper into my world, my story, my hunt, now have to be diverted into keeping these fuck-wits out.
— Listen Roy. We're doing our best for you. You have to want to get better, says
Middle-class English Cunt One, bending over me. I feel his rancid breath in my nostrils. Oh yes, just you keep that up ya cunt, because if I do come out the first thing ah'm gaunny fuckin well dae is tae rip yir fuckin queer English face apart wi ma chib . . . but fuck, naw man, naw . . . ah'm gettin too fuckin close tae the surface, cause ah feel masel at the top ay the ladders which run up the side ay the deep deep well, half-way down being my lair, further down still the beautiful blue skies of Africa, the world ah just drop into but now I'm right at the fuckin top, right at the top, pushing at the trapdoor and some shards of light are coming through . . .
I feel his rancid breath
DOWN
DEEPER
DEEPER – – – – –
—Funny, I thought that there was something there for a bit . . . must just be my imagination. Anyway, let's move on. Thank you. Nurse.
Exit the bools-in-the-mooth cunts.
—Did you hear that Roy! Two doctors today! Dr Park and Dr Goss. And they're pleased with you. You have to work a little bit harder though, lovey. I'm going to put on the nice tape that your mum and your brother made for you. That brother of yours, Tony, is it? He's a saucy one and no mistake. I think he's interested in some of our younger nurses. Anyway, here you are:
The minute you walked in the joint, I could see ye were a man of distinction, A real big spender . . .
Thank you but no fuckin thank you Bev-ih-leey, chuck. Bring back Patricia Devine. Come back Patsy, Patsy De Cline, all is forgiven . . .
Suppose you'd like to know what's goin on in ma mind.
DEEPER
DEEPER
DEEPER– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –Peace.
part two
The City
Of Gold
5 Into The City
Of Gold
Our first home in South Africa was a few rooms in Uncle Gordon's large house in the north-eastern suburbs of Johannesburg. Uncle Gordon was fond of saying that we were as 'far away from Kaffirtown (Soweto) as it was possible to get and still be in Jo'burg'.
Though I was just a kid, my impression of the city was of a drab, bleak modern place. It looked spectacular from the sky as we circled over it on our way to landing at Jan Smuts International Airport, named, John proudly told me, after a South African military man who was a big pal of Winston Churchill's. It was only when we saw it from the ground that I realised it was just another city and that they all looked better from the sky. Close up, downtown Johannesburg just looked like a large Muirhouse-in-the-sun to me. The old mine dumps provided a diminishing backdrop to the ugly skyscrapers, highways and bridges which had long
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