Pseudopod 147: Orifice by John F.D. Taff

Pseudopod: the sound of horror

I don’t have any particular aversion to needles, but I don’t feel any desire whatsoever to submit myself willingly to the tender mercies of what passes for a brush in the hands of a tattoo artist. I have my reasons, at least one of which is that I don’t trust my body to leave a tattoo where the artist puts it. The last thing I want is a faded sketch of a crippled stork on my hip that began its sad life as an awesome dragon on my shoulder.

In “Orifice“, author John F.D. Taff posits (through his narrator’s girlfriend) that any time you poke a hole in something, there are things that will want to get in or out through that hole. And what are tattoos if not hundreds—perhaps thousands—of tiny holes?

A word of caution: This story contains adult language, adult situations, and holes where they ought not be.