Failed attempts with horses

By Per Olvmyr

​How do you get a hundred thousand people into a horse's ass? I asked Dad at breakfast. He started crying. His tears fell down on the plate. Fried eggs. Fried eggs ruined. Mom, standing near, making a sandwich. Ham and cheese. Don't be a fool, of course, that's physically impossible, she said. Besides, it would kill the horse, and even if it could be done, it wouldn't be worth the effort. After she had said that, Mom gave me a look. That dead horse-look. It ruins the eggs every time you ask, she told me and looked at Dad. And so Dad began crying. All eggs ruined once again.

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​Per Olvmyr writes fiction, prose and poetry. He lives in Malmö, Sweden, and has been published by literary magazines such as Poetry Wales, Bombay Literary Magazine, Gone Lawn, Glänta, Takahē and Propagule magazine. His work was nominated for Best Small Fictions in 2025. He can often be found in parks engaged in long conversations with Basset Hounds.