Genocidahlias
‘Genocidahlias’ she said… When I asked which flowers were sitting on her bathroom window sill… The nights had drawn in, and we were recovering from a long and relentless summer… Too much heat for my liking - though at least it helped me earn those few extra dollars from deforestation, and incubate those eggs I had been experimenting on in my bedroom… We sipped a glass of straw coloured Chablis - lovely… whilst witticising our thoughts on their wind-up war… I remember saying, “the problem with the whole thing is they’re not set up for diplomacy the way that we are,” as we delved into our wild boar with lashings of viscous sauce… Apart from the food, another smell fascinated me - drifting toward our table from the corner… That dungeon of delight with its strange attraction shedding deeply perfumed petals to the floor… “Genocidahlias… what a wonder, what a great mystery to uncover… I thought about the creatures in my room that must have hatched out by now - that were probably, as we sp...