Daft Wee Stories by Limmy

Author:Limmy
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781473517899
Publisher: Random House

THE INFINITE TEA BAG

He woke up, face down in the dirt of the dusty Nevada desert. He got to his feet and brought his hands to his eyes, to shield them against the midday sun. He couldn’t remember passing out. He couldn’t remember a thing. But one thing he did know was that he was in trouble. His skin was sunburnt, his head was dizzy, his mouth was as dry as a bone. To his left was an empty road that stretched as far as the eye could see, and the same again to the right. There was nothing out here. Nothing. No signs of life other than the small, dry plants that somehow got by without a drop of water. No snakes, rodents or anything else, dead or alive. No sounds of insects, no cars in the distance, no birds in the sky. Nothing. He didn’t know how he got there or how to get out, but he did know that one thing. He was in trouble.

Suddenly, he was hit in the face with a wet tea bag.

It had flown in from the side, smacking him on his cheek, before falling off and landing at his feet. It took a moment for him to realise what had happened. At first, he didn’t know he’d been hit, he thought that his skin had simply given in to the sunshine and burst open like a blister. But when he looked down, he understood.

He had been hit in the face with a wet tea bag.

He stared at it, then looked around. He smiled, as if a mate had just chucked it at him at a party, before remembering that he wasn’t at a party with his mates. He was in the middle of a desert, with nobody.

What the fuck?

He looked down at the tea bag again and wondered if that’s what it really was. Maybe he was looking at some kind of vulture dropping that somehow looked like a tea bag because his eyes were fucked with the sun. But there were no vultures, there were no birds in the sky, and his eyes were fine. He knew what he was looking at. He picked it up for a closer look all the same. No doubt about it: it was a tea bag.

It was a wet tea bag. It was warm, like it had just been used. He gave it a squeeze, and watched the tea dribble down his fingers. He brought it to his nose. It smelled like tea. And after some consideration, he brought his fingers to his mouth and gave them a lick.

It tasted of tea. It was tea.

It was a wet tea bag. Somehow, out here, he had been hit in the face with a wet tea bag.

He looked around again to find out who did it. He wasn’t interested in why or how, just who. If he could find a person, all of this would probably make sense soon enough. But nobody was there. There was a wee bush just off the road that could hide somebody, providing they were no taller than a foot.

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