Mister, Mister by Guy Gunaratne EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Guy Gunaratne
- Language: English
- Genre: Literary Satire Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
1990–2005
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Idiot Boy
Mister, I have lost my tongue. A quick cut with a cinch, little jerk of the
wrists. Easy, clean, deed done. I suppose you’d say it was madness,
psychosis, insanity – but no, not likely. An act of liberation, that’s what.
Permanence is what I was after. A final, effective riddance at the root – so,
snitch! – since tongues do not grow back.
I’ve little pieces of cotton packed into my cheeks now, Mister. And a
cup of salty water to soothe my blackened mouth. Magic beans to heal the
rest of it. And them nurses take regular swabs of my sutured pits. The
discomfort is nothing. Not compared to the satisfaction I feel from knowing
that I’ve won back – no less, with an act of bloody violence – what has
always been mine. By which I mean, of course: the right to tell my own
story.
I can put down what I really mean to say now, God willing.
And this time, Mister, you may even have my consent. You may listen.
Though, I know, you’ll be wary. Not least, because you’ll have no control
over what’s to be said. But then, what’s left to a person after speech is lost
to them? Recollections and memories alone. And what harm can these
silent things do, really, without a tongue to lift them to other people’s ears?
1. LETTERS I intend now to write down the rest of it. Get scribbling on
these here pages you’ve sent me. I do this in the spirit of reconciling what
has happened. Naturally, there are questions. But you should know there
will be no half-truths to my telling. Nothing invented, nothing untrue – you
should mark that in your official report.
And I’ve agreed, honestly, to tell
you all this, not because your bully courts frighten me, or because you have
Her Majesty’s crest on your pin, or because you, yourself, intimidate me,
Mister, sat there fiddling with your pen. It’s because I am guilty of
everything you say that I did. Guilty of treason. Guilty of inspiring bad
men. Guilty of all of it. And more. So, do me in after I’ve finished. Have
me drawn, quartered, stoned into a pulp for all I care – have at it!
But for now, I just want you to listen.
I have plenty to say.
2. GREAT BRITAIN To return to your question, well – likely is, you’ve
already made up your mind, Mister. I can tell from the sorts of questions
you’ve already asked me, like why I hate your country. I don’t doubt it
seems a little strange coming from me, but believe me when I say that I do
not, not really.
Truly, I have missed your Great Britain. I’ve missed your old British
mores, Mister. Your pasties and that. Your cuppa-teas. Your John Cleese.
And your poets.
This country has always been a home for me. Only place that’s ever
really claimed me, or that I could ever claim. I think about my childhood,
my rambling half-cocked education, and then, my rise into fame and
fortune.
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