{"id":260111,"date":"2026-07-13T17:27:17","date_gmt":"2026-07-13T14:27:17","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/feeder-warren-barns-the-barns-brothers\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T17:27:17","modified_gmt":"2026-07-13T14:27:17","slug":"feeder-warren-barns-the-barns-brothers","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/feeder-warren-barns-the-barns-brothers\/","title":{"rendered":"Feeder – Warren Barns The Barns Brothers"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\u201cStand up,\u201d bellowed his father. \u201cPeter, please don\u2019t. He\u2019s scared,\u201d yelled Graham\u2019s mother from the sidelines. His father glared at her. \u201cScared of what? Some cobwebs and dust? He\u2019s pathetic. I can\u2019t believe my own son, my own flesh and blood, could be such a pissant wimp.\u201d \u201cI\u2019m scared!\u201d mumbled Graham through snot and tears.<\/p>\n

\u201cSee, this is what worries me about you. A normal boy doesn\u2019t behave like this. A NORMAL boy goes exploring under the house with his friends and builds forts. But what do you do all day? Sit inside reading books. Daydreaming. Attached to your mother\u2019s side like an incestuous Siamese twin.\u201d Graham\u2019s father turned and narrowed his gaze at his wife. \u201cPlease tell me he doesn\u2019t own a Barbie doll, too?\u201d The front door slammed shut as Graham\u2019s mother disappeared inside the house. Graham did, in fact, own a Barbie.<\/p>\n

One which he had been oh so careful to keep hidden from his father. But it wasn\u2019t his only doll. He enjoyed playing fantasy games with his GI Joes, Transformers\u2026 and Barbie. \u201cDon\u2019t whimper because your mother left you. I haven\u2019t raised a faggot. Now get under the house.\u201d Graham\u2019s father tossed him into the flower bed.<\/p>\n

Shrubbery and pieces of shale mulch scraped at his soft skin and covered him in tiny cuts. The chicken wire fence door opened and Graham stared into the black abyss before him. His father grabbed him by the neck and pushed him through the cobwebs into the darkness. Graham rolled across the ground, covering himself in dirt as he desperately swatted at his face and head to wipe away the cobwebs.<\/p>\n

He looked back at the bright light of freedom and saw his father\u2019s boots marching back and forth across the lawn. The insects and other creepy crawlies that lived in the dark didn\u2019t descend upon Graham as he feared they might. No giant spiders or killer marching ants. Only the dank, acrid odor of death and decomposition.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t hard to find the rat, even in almost pitch black. Its belly was swollen and excoriated, eyes already hollowed out by insects. The rat appeared to have been clawed to death, most likely by a neighborhood cat, and then must have run under the house to safety where it died from its injuries. The belly moved, bulged, and burst open as hundreds of fly larvae squirmed their way out. Graham turned away in disgust and vomited all over his hands. He had nothing to wear to protect himself from any diseases the dead rodent might have carried.<\/p>\n

Perhaps because that\u2019s how his father thought of him, a disease the family had to carry as a tremendous burden.<\/p>\n

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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. This book is a work of fiction.<\/p>\n

Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author\u2019s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental Cover art by Warren Barns Published by Broken Barn Publishing OceanofPDF.com CONTENTS Hors D’Oeuvre Salad Appetizer Main Course Just Desserts Digestif A Note from Warren Mailing List About the Author OceanofPDF.com G HORS D’OEUVRE raham Richards leaned back in his chair and stared through the glass windows at the warehouse floor below him.<\/p>\n

He remembered a time when the company had over a hundred employees working the floor. Forklift drivers, cleaners, supervisors, and packers swarming around getting shit done like busy worker bees. These days, the fully automated warehouse practically ran itself. The only time a human set foot on the ground was during maintenance shifts.<\/p>\n

He knew his days as the in-house accountant were numbered too. Everyone was slowly being outsourced. He chuckled as the terrible pun ran through his head. Accountant\u2026 numbered\u2026 get it? The days of balancing spreadsheets and cooking the books were well and truly over. He\u2019d become a glorified data entry bitch with zero job satisfaction and a thousand regrets over investing his youth in his work. He never invested in a social life, getting out to meet people, or having fun.<\/p>\n

Now, he found himself middle-aged and lonely. His frugal, conscientious lifestyle had worked out well on paper. He had no mortgage on a three-bedroom apartment, and a midrange Hyundai that he bought brand new off the dealer\u2019s lot a year ago when he hit the big 4-0. Was he having a midlife crisis?<\/p>\n

Life had become a dull bore of work, wank, sleep, and repeat.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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