Detritus

Tommy was lying dead on the floor in his condemned flat that stank of rotting flesh. There was dead cat by his side that probably took a few days to die. The fridge was open, it was empty. On the table was a stained cup full of fungus. Everything in the room seemed toxic, the pungent smell of stale urine on a flea bitten carpet, vomit stains on a wall and dried blood on the bathroom door. The windows were jammed shut, I tried to open one but the handle sheared off.  The last call I got from Tommy was 3 weeks ago, he told me he was going up north to stay with some friends. I tried calling him several times there was no answer.  I sat on a plastic chair that didn’t feel safe wondering what to do. Calling the police would be the obvious thing to do but I remember Tommy saying that when he died he wanted to be in Tibet because he liked the idea of having his body prepared by some kind of shaman who would cleanse the body of evil spirits before building a funeral pyre on a sacred mountain.

Tommy would have hated being found dead by police, he had a lifetime of hassle, false arrests and beatings. ‘my face antagonised them’ he once said. I looked out of the window the sun was burning bright and a ray appeared that shone directly on Tommy’s body. The swine is talking to me, this was Tommy’s second rate burial . I smiled at the thought of Tommy saying, ‘I told you my death would be a tired circus act with no audience’. The ray of sun seemed to get stronger and more concentrated. There was a smell of burning I looked out of the window but saw no smoke. I looked back at Tommy to see his clothes on fire. The flames spread so fast that the furniture caught alight in seconds. Dry peeling wallpaper threw fire at the ceiling. I had to get out quick and run down three flights of stairs. As soon as I left the building I stared up at Tommy’s flat to see huge flames spewing out the of the crackling window. I looked around to see if anyone nearby saw me exit the building there was no one in sight. I could hear the sirens from a distance. I took one last glance up at the fire and saluted Tommy. He would laugh at the idea that the only Shaman he got was a fellow junkie albeit a reformed one. A week later the local council demolished the flats. Tommy’s remains were never found.

©JMN 2022