I was sitting outside a newsagent’s shop on a pavement bench, idling the time of day by watching people going in and out…

Until I realised, and I don’t know when I first realised it, or how, and whether I am a special sort of person to notice it at all, but the people going in were always different from those coming out.

After quite a long while, I went in to investigate and discovered there was another entrance to the shop round the corner. On coming out, I wondered who that geezer was sitting on the bench, staring at me so strangely! I must have met him once in a dream.

Talking about dreams, I once had one where I was a cashier in a canteen, totting up all the items on the trays passing before me, and accepting the luncheon vouchers and tannersworth…

Strange, I was a woman in the dream, complete with shapeless torso and a wicked, gossiping tongue. The boobs felt funny hanging on my man’s chest like polythene bags full of plum pudding.

But that wasn’t the strangest thing, for the food-bearing trays gradually turned nastier. At first I thought the steaks Chef was serving up were getting rarer and rarer but they were, I finally guessed, thinly disguised bits of raw human bodies…

The customer who came last had what looked like a coiled penis on a bed of pilau rice, garnished such that it almost looked tasty…

I woke with a start, sweating like a pig on heat; I fumbled for what I thought would be proof of my manhood and was devastated ( if that’s strong enough a word ) to find the dream was too close to home for my liking.

No wonder that chap coming out of the newsagent ogled me as I sat crosslegged upon the bench. He sat down next to me and whispered that he would like it “off the bone”. I smiled knowingly, as dinner ladies sometimes do.

Splatterfest ’90 takes place at the Scala on February 24th – unless it’s all a con, I should be going to it, so any subscribers also going who need a floor on Friday night or who want to head out for a drink then, please feel free to get in touch.

**** 2. “I will not be threatened by a walking meat-loaf!”