A Century of Dead Nazis
By Neil Sweetman
Copyright 2014 Neil Sweetman
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A Century Of Dead Nazis
The doctors gave me ten years to live, that was twelve years ago, they are baffled by my stubbornness in dying, as am I.
I am old, eighty-seven years old, my skin is stretched and wrinkled and blotted different colours at various different times. My hair is white and I loose teeth too regularly but I don’t feel old.
My no-goodnik son shuffled me into one of these nursing homes but I need no aid to do anything, the nurses seem genuinely amazed at how little they have to care for me and they don’t speak down to me like they do to the rest of these brain-dead drones, not one significant piece of tail in the whole lot, I might add.