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Getting To Know Me by Phillip Sheahan

Self-isolation? Iʼll go mad. Idea! Iʼll invite fifteen of my closest friends to each take a room in my very big house.

What fun weʼll have all cosied up together.

Ten days later... Iʼve strangled five, stabbed four, smothered two and locked the rest in their rooms.

Familiarity does, it seems, breed contempt – even when oneʼs closest friends are imaginary.

Iʼm emotionally exhausted but quite calm. Iʼve retreated to the fourth bathroom and dine by candlelight on cheese and crackers.

A neighbour phoned to ask if I was lonely, “On the contrary,” I said, “Iʼm just getting to really know myself.”



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