The Party – by Laura Solomon

 

You have to be dead to be invited to this party.
As is to be expected, all the stars are here.
Janis, Marilyn, Jesus.
There are ordinary people too though.
Kevin Watson who died of a blood clot to the brain
shortly after his 40th birthday.
He’s been resurrected. Now he’s partying in the corner –
he’s put himself in charge of the music
and is playing Nirvana
as Cobain toys with a segment of his blown-off head.

Other run-of-the-mill folk present?
Jimmy Molesworth who hung himself
and is now hitting on Janis Joplin who is oblivious
to the attention, dancing wildly to Come As You Are
a whisky bottle clutched tightly in her right hand.

Jimmy’s still got rope marks around his neck.

There’s Cindy Rutherford who was hit by a car
while simultaneously cycling and listening to her iPod.
Not a good combination. She’s got splinters of glass
from the windscreen embedded in her face.

Marilyn decides to re-stage her death for our general entertainment.
She strips off and swallows a bottle of pills.
Then passes out in the bed. Nobody looks alarmed.
It’s all faked; we can’t die now that we’re dead.
The black telephone rings.
I move to answer it.
Nobody is there.
I can hear the 22nd Century heavy breathing down the line.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Laura Solomon’s books include Alternative Medicine, An Imitation of Life, Instant Messages, Vera Magpie, Hilary and David, In Vitro, and Freda Kahlo’s Cry. She has won prizes in the Bridport, Edwin Morgan, Ware Poets, Willesden Herald, Mere Literary Festival, and Essex Poetry Festival competitions. Also short-listed for the 2009 Virginia Prize and the 2014 International Rubery Award and won the 2009 Proverse Prize. She has judged the Sentinel Quarterly Short Story Competition.

Her play The Dummy Bride was part of the 1996 Wellington Fringe Festival and her play Sprout was part of the 2005 Edinburgh Fringe Festival.

3 thoughts on “The Party – by Laura Solomon

  1. This is macabre. It makes grim reading, but that’s not a complaint: it’s an acknowledgment that the Grim Reaper does not always wait politely in the wings. I felt driven to read it several times.

    Like

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