I’m Going Out, in a Blaze of Gloooorrrryyy…..

Sitting in a van with three other women who are all shivering the tits off and trying to keep warm after working in the mid-winter rain.  All of us are smoking.

Well, I’m not so much smoking, as I am steaming.

The steam is pouring off me, like my own personal aura-sauna. This job has made me realise how little I feel the cold, I’m always warmer than everyone else. Probably on account of my masses of fleshy insulation. I don’t smoke any more, but I’m worried that I might start. It will probably start pouring out of my mouth first, then, having read accounts of such occurrences, I imagine my torso and head with quickly erupt into intense flame. Depending on how I’m seated at the time, my hands and feet will most likely remain. Where the rest of me once was, there will be a large, black, greasy stain and the smell of burned ham. I better make sure I’m sitting as far as I can away from the spare petrol cans.

Whenever we finish a job and jump in the van, the window closest to me steams up. Bloody Hell, the fat girl’s over heating again.

"At the foot of a palm tree, swallowed by flames, she thought what would be her final thought "I wonder if the girls will remember the marshmallows in the glove box." "

“At the foot of a palm tree, engulfed in searing flame, she wondered if the girls bought marshmallows today.”


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