Friday Flash Fiction: ‘Pig Headed’

Photo by Nicolas Postiglioni on Pexels.com

He thought he’d seen it somewhere before; a pig’s head somehow pulled over the victim’s. The body had been left untouched until he arrived, partly concealed between trash cans.
“Gloves, please. Thanks.”
Kneeling down, he brought out the wallet, examining the debit card before showing it to detective constable Erica Wilkes. She squinted at it in the dim light. “But that’s you, boss, even the same initials.”
The sense of deja vu began to overwhelm him.

Copyright Francis Barker 2020

Poem ‘Chicxulub’

Chicxulub

I may never get to the Yucatan
to touch the KT boundary at its thickest

that iridium layer exposed
like a line of fat in the tastiest bacon

yet this was where the asteroid slammed,
when the dinosaurs were fried

atomised or blasted by the wind;
when Cretaceous gave way to Tertiary

and little shrews crawled out
into a scene like a nuclear winter.

Chicxulub— how the strange name grates
like the sound of the still ringing earth.

Merely saying it, I get a sense of deja vu,
like a sudden blinding flash

where I glimpse the endless burials
high on the mountain of Kailash

screened on some future sky

image and poem © copyright dfbarker 2012
painting clearly not of Chicxulub but of a scene much nearer to home, namely Hunstanton, where there is at least visible strata in the cliffs.