An Early Childhood Chapter 26 Part 4



An Early Childhood Chapter 26 Part 4: A Visit to Middlesex


An Early Childhood by Paddy Flanagan is a mock surreal autobiography, narrated by a fictional Irish war hero, champion bodhran player, and television presenter. Its first chapter is here. It parodies misery memoirs (such as Angela’s Ashes by the late great Frank McCourt), as well as time travel adventure, pop culture, and literature of various kinds.

Continued from Chapter 26 Part 3.


                Dyll pulled me close as we left the club, and she spotted a child-sized cocoon entirely comprising scab-like material, that was pulsing rhythmically.

                “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to it in disgust.

                “A healing child, lovey!” I replied. “He’s ointmented himself up and he’s in recovery mode!”

                “Wow,” she said.

                “Yip.”

                We walked along the street and she drew even closer.

                “Kiss me!” she said, her breath smelling of peppermint and honey.

                I didn’t have to be asked twice.

                I put my arm around her, and we walked down the street to her accommodations above a communist literature store, Book Marx. She put her key in the door and went inside and up the stairs. “Come on,” she said, and I followed, closing the door behind me.

                “So what do you do, Sugar Plum?” she asked, switching on the gas lamp to illuminate her quarters – an all in one kitchen, dining area and boooooudoir.


                “Well, lots of things. I’m a rebel and a poet and a patriot. At various stages of my life, I’ve been a factory technician, an apprentice to Bill Cullen the Apple Boy, a time traveller, a horse insemination technician, a warlock hunter, a practicing radio broadcaster, and a wolf-dog guard dog.”

                “Ooohh, you’re in radio?”

                “No. I’m only practicing. I haven’t actually applied to be a broadcaster yet.”

                “Right. And you were a wolf-dog guard dog?”

                “Yes. As a child, I killed a guard dog and – having bested the beast – my boss employed me as his new guard dog at his factory for a short period,” I said.

                She kissed me again. She drew me to the bed. I groped her lithe upper body and she gasped. She fell back on the bed, and I kissed her throat, and then I put my hand up her dress and gave her penis a good feel.

                I pulled back from the kiss, hopped off the bed and uttered the words:

                “Wait a second there, Mister!”

Continued in Chapter 26 Part 5.