Blood by Roddy Doyle
The unnamed central character of this short story finds himself suddenly craving blood. He can’t understand it, he is a normal person, a normal man, why on earth is this happening to him. He tries to rationalise it, maybe he has an iron deficiency? Or maybe it is a totally misdirected sex-drive? And yet, he continues to find himself being drawn towards blood. Bloody raw steaks, the next-door neighbour’s chickens…
In the beginning, about 13.7 billion years ago, to be reasonably precise, there was a very, very small dot.
Halloween hasn’t quite arrived when Samuel Johnson calls in to the Abernathy’s as he attempts to get a head start on everyone else. Dressed as a ghost and accompanied by his dog, a little dachshund called Boswell, he in for a disappointing evening. Mr. Abernathy wants nothing to do with Samuel’s tricks nor with treats. He has plans for this evening. His wife found a book recently, and together with the Renfield’s they are about have some ‘fun’.