![](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fd2001773-5f0e-4997-aa08-2ac99392c2ad_772x555.jpeg)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tom is a poet from Devon in the UK and has been published in Punk Noir, Bristol Noir and A Thin Slice of Anxiety.
I walked out the apartment building, up the street, and back in time. A man was sweating in the sun, pushing a big barrel up the hill, and a woman with a staff and a shawl draped over her, fiddled with the cloth and put it up over her head and back down around her body. Two men simultaneously pulling up their pants and trousers and scurrying away. At the top of the street, they were putting up some Gallows, it looked to be they were getting things ready for a public hanging. This must be the results coming in from the election, I thought, might as well stick around and find out, no going back now.
Overnight, the grotesque that was hidden in every man and woman, seemed to have come to the surface and was winning the battle. My stomach began to hurt, dully at first but as I got closer so the pain increased. The Gallows were rudimentary, like they had been put up in a hurry. Some more people started to gather, coming out from the houses and into the street. People were shouting, and I could not tell what about exactly. My belly hurt. I looked down at my feet and they were bare and becoming bloody and cut up on the sharp flint from the roads surface, I pulled my hands over my ears to dampen the shouting to no avail. People began to throw things at me, rotten food and feces, they spat too. Shooting pains came up in me and blood came into my mouth.
“We are gathered here today to witness the execution of yesterday’s MAN, any last words?” A hooded man said.
“What! what did I do? I didn’t even vote; I am not your enemy! I was just taking a walk; I just woke up!” I was shocked to say the least.
“Here be yesterday’s MAN who infected us all with his filthy ways, no more! let his ways die with him, and be a warning to all the others who still decide to come to the NEW man’s land!” He really was getting into it, years of anger seemed to be fueling his very being. But it made him uncoordinated and clumsy. “David, have you got the rope? yes the one from my trailer, no the thick rope David, COME ON USE YOUR FUCKING BRAIN!” He screamed at a boy called David.
“Listen, I don’t know what it is you think I believe in but I can assure you, I am no threat, look I’m still in my pajamas and its nearly mid-day. I’m spitting up blood and will probably die soon anyway, I’m a sick man.” I tried to reason.
“That may be so but it is my duty, to keep these lands safe from people like you, BUKARRRK, and if you had it your way you would have a welcoming red carpet to all yesterday’s MAN who wanted to invade our lands, rape our women, OINKK OINKK, and kill our young, MOOOOOO.
He couldn’t control what came next, he and the crowed began to get onto all fours and contort and squirm in the mud, calling out like pigs and cows and chickens. The man’s face began to disfigure and become thick skinned and grew a snout, and could no longer produce words that were understandable. “OOOIIINK OOOINNK Eiiinnk!!!” He scrambled on all fours and bucked and sprinted in short bursts on the podium. I could tell he wasn’t happy about it. It’s difficult having freedom taken from you like that, I should know. There were a few squabbles between them, but they all began to disperse and go their separate ways, the chickens gathered with other chickens, so on and so forth. There seemed to be no need for the gallows anymore, and the rope just hung there limp, as the last pig jumped off the podium landing, shitting in the street, content to walk off and join the other pigs in the pen.