Sunday, 8 November 2015

Oh, brother (part 39) by Grant Harbison


“Arise, ye’ve had enough sleep,” said Deplorium to Truman and Borium. “It’s time tae earn yer keep.”
Both Borium and Truman woke with fright
“Deplorium, cried Borium. “It’s still the middle of the night.”
“Exactly,” replied Deplorium. “What ah do cannae be done in the light.”
“Tis said that those who toil before the dawn are Satan’s spawn,” said Truman. “Wouldn’t you say so, Borium?”
“Yes. What exactly do you want us to do, Deplorium?”
“Many fools are buried wi’ jewels.”
Borium and Truman stared at him aghast
“Och, dinnae look at me like that. They’re aw jist shells whose souls have passed.”
“It’s still inhuman!” cried Truman.
“Yes, Truman. I agree,” said Borium. “I’ll never do that. No, not me.”
“Well, if you’re not able, ye’ll have tae find another way o’ puttin’ food on the table. Ah’ll give ye time tae contemplate. Dinnae take too long. It’s gettin’ late.”
Borium gave Truman a look of dread
Borium understood and nodded his head. “Deplorium, is there something other we can do instead? We’re not very good when it comes to the dead.”
“Ye can dig the soil if that’s how yer feelin’. Ah’ll have a look tae see if there’s anythin’ worth stealin’.”
Suddenly Borium’s tongue began to swell
Truman lost control of his legs and to the floor he fell
“Great monstrosities fae the bowels of Hell!” cried Deplorium. “Ah know those signs aw too well. It looks like someone has cast a spell.”
Borium struggled for breath and Truman began to yell
“Relax, the pair o’ ye. Ah’ll get somethin’ fae the dell. Ah’ll make a wee brew and ye’ll both be well.” 

  

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