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In the jar

Adrift at sea, submerged in olive oil, all my bodily needs are satisfied, and I can dream

By Julian Gough   November 2006

Alarms rang.

I ran.

I ran the length of what turned out, unfortunately, to be a pier: and found myself at the end of it, surrounded by water. A yacht lay to my left, and a shed lay to my right. I looked at the yacht: voices came from it. No.

I threw open the unlocked door of the shed, entered, and slammed it behind me.

A little light came through the high, barred window over the door. It was a storeroom of some kind: foodstuffs, in enormous industrial containers. Giant sacks of rice, of coffee beans, of oats.…

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