Kipper from Stopcock by Pype

dear suzy, here’s a letter you’ll never read, i just wanted you to know i don’t in any way regret my evil deed. when we first met in ’82, aboard the qe2, i somehow divined a desperate neediness in you. in an empty house in shorrolds road i offered you salvation, you laughed in my face, ushered in your damnation. i’m beginning to feel unwell again, a red mist is starting to descend, i’m smashing your beautiful face into a ghost, offloading you in lots across the norfolk coast. you made a right mess of his borrowed bmw, but as your lips no longer move, i guess i can forgive you. it doesn’t stop us talking over shitty meals on wheels or stop me hobbling down my stairs in your low stiletto heels. i know trophies are for bumpkins and brain-dead fools, but i made you my exception, broke my every rule. we could have been the perfect pair astride love’s big dipper, if you hadn’t messed up – your bad! mr kipper. i’m beginning to feel unwell again, a red mist is starting to descend, everyone detests estate agent scum, you jerked me on a deal so i’m jerking you numb. i’m not the suffolk strangler, total fucking amateur, i’d never stoop to whores, mondeo-driving wanker. i’ve no urge to read my ‘story’ in the national press, don’t need to be on tv to feel depressed. it’s time to pull a veil over my face, time to sign off from this sterile waste, time to join you in our rightful place, time to disappear without trace.

• Alternative
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• Cambridge