A Cold Hell by Bogdan Dragos

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MasticadoresIndia // Editora: Terveen Gill

A close up of a mother and child, dirty and poor, crying and hugging each other
Image Source: Canva

the clouds seemed

to be holding

the sun back

like a slave

with chains of lead

After a night

of heavy snow

the day tried to make

a comeback

and failed

It was 11:00 AM

and dark as evening

and since it was

also cold as hell

they concluded they

were in hell

“But hell is not

forever, mother,” he

said. “I’ll make it outside

of hell. In a place where

every soul has a home

and no one freezes in the

streets like us.”

It was a childish promise

that came from

a child

Unlike his mother and her

purple lips

and faded eyes that looked

towards his face

but not at it,

he was blazing with life

and with rage

He shook his tiny fist

at life’s own

cruelty

and cursed the coldness

of the gods

It was still pathetic

in comparison

with the coldness

View original post 444 more words

Said the Ashtray by Bogdan Dragos

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MasticadoresIndia // Editora: Terveen Gill

A multicolored skull ashtray with a lit cigarette placed inside it
Image Source: Snappa

Of course

predators don’t always murder their

prey

Many times they will just

catch something

for fun and then

release it

and revel in the godlike feeling of having

allowed a creature infinitely

weaker

to live

“My cat brought me a mouse,” she said. “Held him

from the back of the head,

like a newborn kitten. You know how

cats do, they sometimes bring

you game

like a trophy

or to show appreciation for taking care

of them, allowing them to live

in your house. Well, mine brought

this cute little mouse

and guess what,

the mouse is still in my room to this day

but the cat is not. I don’t

know what happened to

her. She went out and never

returned. It’s been a month and a half. And

it hurts all the more. That cat

was my therapy animal. She helped

me cope with…

View original post 425 more words

The Matters of the Living are Beyond Her Now by Bogdan Dragos

Image Source: Snappa I watch her every evening until late at night I’m always looking under her skirt Most of the times she’s wearing black and doesn’t bother to use anything that may absorb her blooming redness The matters of the living are beyond her now She stopped eating and weighs just a bit more […]

The Matters of the Living are Beyond Her Now by Bogdan Dragos

Bogdan Dragos

Horror Sleaze Trash

dead and unfazed

217 days
without speaking
or seeing each other
and suddenly she shows up
knocks on his door and says,
“Hey, we’re still together, right?
Still a couple?”

He didn’t answer,
just ushered her in
through a curtain of smoke
and moldy smells.
His small apartment
looked more like a cave
than ever before.
The walls were dark and irregular
with buildup of grime.

The cockroaches were long dead,
poisoned with cigarette smoke
and ashes

26 years her senior,
he was a modern caveman
Still lived in a cold, dark,
and gross cave,
but he had a laptop
and internet connection.

The screen
was the only thing
alive in the cave.

It showed a compilation
of short videos
featuring brutal executions
from all around the world.

“So how have you been?”
she asked.

His reply was a grunt
as his gnarled hand
reached into his breast pocket
and…

View original post 645 more words

lovely hands by Bogdan Dragos

Gobblers & Masticadores

there's been a collection of rather dark thoughts lately and he was studying it from the comfort of his bed The other day he found a good pillow in the dumpster and used it to cover the spot on the mattress where the rusty springs emerged Now the bed was fine again good enough for daydreaming After you've tried out all herbs and powders all that's left are the dreams the daydreams and the nightdreams and the nightmares and the daymares On another day spent dumpster diving he'd found a plastic bag with about six severed hands They were still cold some mafia shit was going on in the city He took them home and tried to cook them hoping to obtain at least some bits of meat He had no pan and of course no oil so he impaled them with iron rods at the writs and placed them…

View original post 95 more words

a dead body in the room

there was a dead body in the room

Had to be

Else where did the smell
come from?

Every time he’d turn around to catch
a ghost or a zombie
from the corner of his eyes the smell
would slap him

A smell of death

He decided he’d look around for the
dead body
but later

He didn’t have the energy now
or the disposition
or anything

He only wanted to sleep
some more
He just woke up and needed a good
nap to recover

Perhaps there were times when it
didn’t make sense
but now, today, nothing made more
sense that this

All you need is a healthy
dose of chronic depression and it makes
sense

Just like not cleaning the room
and not taking a shower
in a time longer than memory can be
bothered to remember

So he paced back to the bed
and climbed in
and dragged the blanket, heavy with
caked dirt, on his body
and closed his eyes

He fell asleep in spite of
the smell of death
coming closer still

The dreams were always a little bit better
in the nap taken after
waking up from
the night’s sleep

One time he even dreamed he
was a published author. Not a great or
even a good one, but published

just some average guy with an interesting life by Bogdan Dragos

Gobblers & Masticadores

quite a few times she had to ask him why he was so shy He thought it was just normal to be shy on a first date no matter how many other dates you've been on with other girls He was afraid of getting too deep into relationships, mainly because girls didn't like guys who still lived with their parents He lived with his father who worked as a butcher His clothes were always stained by blood and smelled of salt and iron but worst of all was that he was drunk more often than not About thirty minutes into the date his phone rang and he excused himself to answer. It was his father "Listen buddy. I kinda need your help." "Dad, I kinda need you to understand that I can't save your ass every time you get in trouble thanks to your drinking. I'm busy right now." "Oh?…

View original post 158 more words

bit by bit, little by little

there were times when she bit and
chewed the inside
of her elbow

to spit the bits of flesh
and the blood
on her grandma

but those times were over

almost forgotten

along with the teachings that
her blood is poisoned
because she was conceived with the
wrong woman, meaning
not the one grandmother intended for
her father

But today all those
people were dead. Only father was
alive

He was all right. A hard working
man, busy with life

busy enough not to notice
that his daughter
is constantly sprinkling ashes in
his food and coffee

He’d almost consumed the
contents of
his mother’s urn

there’s just
a bit left

dreams of drunk men

the dreams of drunks are the strangest
and often most beautiful

It’s what he
came to think this morning
after he woke up with
the empty glass under the blanket

Surely it was that glass
and the liquor in his guts
that made him dream of a frozen woman, clear
as glass

She smiled at him
with diamond teeth and stooped like only
a professional stripper could
next to his limp body

She rolled him onto his belly
and his limpid, numb eyes
watched her grow an icicle from between
her legs
but they closed by the time
she carved a hole into his liver and
began to fuck him until the
ice melted

That was a nice dream,
he concluded

And tonight he’d go to sleep
with two glasses 
and a bottle under
the blanket


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