Michael Crane |
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Postcards from the End of the World |
© 2001 by Michael Crane and gangan books australia |
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Crap Dear Shirley temple with the pot-plant-pilfering eyes, You know that I have been a nurse at the hospital for many years and I never talk about my work, but one of our patients had been admitted for severe constipation and for two weeks we tried every medication and technique to get his bowels moving but nothing worked. One morning he read a letter to me from his girlfriend Cynthia telling him that she was leaving him for a man who has perfect bowel movement. She added that he even had total control of his bladder as well. Then it happened. He said that he needed to go to the toilet but all the cubicles were busy so I gave him a bed pan and closed the curtain around him, A few seconds later he let out a long, loud grunt. I went to pick up the bed pan from him and he had a smile on his face. I looked inside and there in the pan was a perfectly formed faeces in the shape of the letter D. The same thing happened for the next 60 days . Every morning at exactly ten a.m. he would leave a letter from the alphabet in his bedpan. Soon every one was talking about it because he seemed to be leaving a message for the world to see. TV crews appeared and interviewed him. Newspaper journalists wrote daily articles announcing the arrival of each new letter. A movie producer offered him lot of money to make a film about his life. And then on the sixtieth day it stopped. From then on his bowels were normal and left no faeces in the shape of a letter. He discharged himself from the hospital. He had arrived as just another patient and left a national celebrity. That afternoon the newspaper printed his message in full and I couldnt stop laughing. Dear Cynthia, you whore you broke my heart, but nothing beats a good purge. From
Florence Nightingale
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