An extract from The Alice Factor by Fyn Day...

Wednesday, 7:8:85. An accident casualty was brought in by police car. He was about my age, found several yards from the scene of a badly smashed and recently stolen car, and not outwardly badly injured. The police insisted, as though expecting to be disbelieved, that 'the casualty' was conscious when they found him. Which is why he was brought in, upright, sat in the back of a police car. He was neither upright nor conscious when he arrived.

Before a proper assessment had been possible he arrested. I looked on as his clothing was removed and attempts were made to revive him. At one point he ejaculated semen as the defibrillator pulsed his whole body into spasm. I believe he died then. I believe his soul took an orgasmic exit.

One policeman, about the same age as the casualty and me, said he felt cheated. Really he felt agitated. All the gathered world recognised the loss. They felt their own transience tugging on their sleeve. They each reacted differently, but they were all hurting. All, that is, except the dead man. The naked youth, as white as a dead fish, who lay on his back in front of nine total strangers, came, and went.

The Alice Factor
Fyn Day

ISBN 0 95 44983 0 5

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