I was only in primary school

D. David Croot has been writing on and off (pretty much continually) for nineteen hundred years. He is no preternatural creature, no real special abilities or heightened desires to speak of, but he’s put in his four-trillion hours and it’s all for you my sweaty precious and sublimely beautiful creatures.

Free debut novel here:Â https://ko-fi.com/ddavidcroot

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He was twenty or more

had a moustache

men just could not grow

I was nine

Nine!

And it felt like a dream

Hallucination

What had led to this abomination

Clearly he was mentally incompetent

He had muscles, toned like he’d

hit the gym eight times a week before I was born

How was he allowed to compete?

To slaughter me at the hundred meter sprint

Shit, he beat everybody at every event

There’s no stopping a lad in his prime

No doubt he’d have beaten the dads in half the time

He could have chugged all day long