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Death Cap
Death Cap
Death Cap
Ebook31 pages27 minutes

Death Cap

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Stricken with a terrible fear of poisonous mushrooms, a man’s life has degenerated into an endless cycle of suspicion and brillo pads. When his friend suggests a gravy-coated cure at a local restaurant, he reluctantly accepts. But as dinner progresses he begins to suspect that his friend may have an ulterior motive; namely murder, by way of the very mushroom that he fears the most: the Death Cap.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateOct 24, 2015
ISBN9781311454089
Death Cap
Author

Cecil Cavender

Put-upon teaching assistant based in Reading, Berkshire. Dabbles in theatre, couple of plays performed. Better known for accidentally causing ruckuses in the local pubs.

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    Book preview

    Death Cap - Cecil Cavender

    Death Cap

    Copyright © 2015 Cecil Cavender

    All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

    Published by Woodford Press

    For C.

    I had recently been stricken with an all-consuming fear of poisonous mushrooms. With this fresh phobia had come sixty-eight pairs of latex gloves, a wide variety of high quality cleaning products, and insomnia. The bathroom became a fortress. I couldn’t go out in case I stepped on one and brought the germs back in on my toes. I couldn’t eat for fear of one slipping unnoticed into my dinner and attacking my liver. I couldn’t talk to anyone in case I offended them and they revenged themselves with a Sickener to my All Bran. I became suspicious of everyone. Not even the milkman escaped my fearful judgement, so convinced was I that he was introducing fatal amatoxins into my diet via fours pints of skimmed on Thursday mornings. Ink Caps appeared in my garden overnight. I felt certain someone had planted them and kept a close eye for evidence of tampering…

    This change in my psyche was mirrored by the change upon my bookshelf. Space once occupied by the classics was now taken by innumerable and endlessly informative books on fungi. Charles Dickens was spurned in favour of Wild About Britain. Jane Austen became Safety in the Woodland: Don’t Fool with Toadstools. Countless articles lectured on the dangers of the Poisonpie, the Fly Agaric, Destroying Angel, and cortinarius gentilis, a fungus so terrible no one had ever got close enough to give it a proper name. I even had a volume on The World’s Prettiest and Glossiest Mushrooms, which includes the charming Parrot Waxcap, uniquely green and fatally listed as ‘edible’ by Mushrooms Monthly, which fails to detail how consumption of over twenty specimens in a single sitting can cause gastrointestinal disorders.

    Of particular concern was the Death Cap. A meeting with one of these terrors would almost certainly result in death; a meeting I was convinced I had

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