Roadkill

Louise Norgate

… look out! Careful!
Oh god, poor thing, it doesn’t look like
it’s been there all that long.
We should go back – stop, we can turn round
by that gate – we can’t just leave it, someone
will drive straight over it round that corner, 
imagine the mess.
Pull up here.
Lucky nobody’s already squished it, really.
Do you think we can move it between us?
Times like this you wish you had some gloves.
Is it stiff? Oh come on, you can give it
a harder prod than that, those are sturdy boots!
Goodness, it can’t have happened long
before we got here.
Well, we can shuffle a bit at a time I suppose.
You grab that end and I’ll get this – damn,
it’s hard to keep a grip – if I just hold tight
to a handful of its jeans it’ll be easier. There. 
Few inches at a time. Hang on.
OK and again.
Right, that’ll do.
Quite a bit of meat on it, isn’t there?
Do you think we could get it in the boot?
I mean… pity to let it go to waste now we’re here
isn’t it? No, I’ve never tasted it either,
but I’ve heard it’s a little like veal, apparently.
Shall we…? OK, after three.
One, two, three – 
oof. Definitely meaty. Big fella.
What do you mean, you think you saw it breathing?
Don’t be silly. Just shut the boot. Mind the fingers!
There.
Come on, let’s go and make some space
in the freezer.


By day, Louise Norgate is a complementary therapist working with people affected by cancer: by night, a tarot reader, moongazer and writer whose poetry has been published in Acropolis Journal. Her words can be found on Twitter @LouNwrites. She likes the dark.