Written by Jacob Ibrag
‘Please state your full name,’ and so you
do. ‘Can you tell us today’s date?’ Staring out the
window, you shake your head no. ‘Do you practice any
religion?’ You expose the tattoo on the right side of your rib
cage, ‘maybe I did, I think I used to.’ They ask to take a picture.
You let them. ‘Where were you?’ You scratch the back of your left
hand and talk about the ink shop that was owned by a man with
two heads. ‘No. Where were you when the sun left?’ You take in
their question and throw a quick grin, ‘there was a funeral.
The family couldn’t afford a decent casket, so a couple
of friends chipped in. The day the Sun divorced
the Earth, I woke up from my death.’
Photography by Alex Stoddard