Out in the sticks at our Godfather's farm me seven, my brother six sit mesmerised at Dad dismembering with respect a handful of skinless lambs hung long enough we don't have to worry about any blood spatter - this rite of passage is clean despite the stain of bleating in the background from the stock not yet for slaughter trying to distract with moans of life but our stares are steadfast following every saw-slice through sinew and cleaving hack through tissue and bone as joints are bound into greaseproof-parchment paper and bundled into boxes one for us to take away the other twelve for our Godfather who lights a makeshift barbecue built of brick scorching the savoury hay-grass beneath and sets about grilling the best lamb cutlets I'm ever likely to taste fresh from their funeral pyre he sweetens them up with homemade mint jelly his wife has made from the cottage garden-kitchen and we have mars bar krispies for dessert while the adults have a beer or two and the crying from the lambs is silenced by the sheepdog’s snarl and bark and we’re given pats on the back by a bunch of proud men who smell of hay and blood two young boys - toughened up in spring's twilight.
Paul Adam Short is a working-class writer and poet from Newcastle Upon Tyne. The culture, landscape and history of North-East England play a massive part in his inspiration when writing. Paul has been published online in @stymiemag, @dailydrunkmag and @darkpoetsclub. In April 2021, Paul won the Press 53 ‘53-Word Short Story Contest’. Recently, Paul appeared on the Eat The Storms Poetry Podcast reading some of his works.