Taco Tuesday by Aydin Can Hahne
Marvin is getting ready to serve dinner for him and his brothers’ weekly Taco Tuesday night.
As always, he makes sure to put a tablecloth down on the dining table first, as one of his younger brothers always manages to make a mess with the salsa. He then sets down a fork, knife, and plate in front of every chair, before grabbing a large carcass from out of the oven.
The skeletal structure of the animal immediately appears human, except for the addition of a couple of extra limbs on either side of its chest. The creature is spatchcocked: its entire body is split into two, its backside is sticking in the air, and it is coiled together with an aggressive winding of copper wire. The creature is also steaming and seasoned aggressively with aromatics. Rosemary covers most of its back, droplets of garlic butter sweat out from beneath its skin, and thick crystals of rock salt and shavings of rainbow peppercorns coat the top of its head.
The presentation is perfect, aside from an unruly limb that has popped out from beneath the wire. Marvin fixes the leg back into place and opens the kitchen door.
Steam from the roasted meat then trickles its way up the stairs to the hungry boys waiting there.
‘Boys! Dinner is ready!’
At the sweet scent of the meat, and the call from Marvin, a flock of young boys stomp their way down the stairs and towards the dining room. The entire house shakes in the wake of their impact.
Once in the room, the boys all begin to crowd around the large dining table, waiting for Marvin to bring out the meat. They’re all whispering to one other about how they’re hoping to get their hands on a chunk of thigh meat. They all claim it’s their favourite.
Marvin then walks into the dining room holding the body on a tray. The carcass is so large, the creature’s eight limbs droop from the sides of the tray down to Marvin’s ankles like strings of sausages hanging up in a butcher’s shop.
Upon seeing this, the boys lose all sense of civility. They push and shove each other out of the way, flaring their teeth and drooling over one another. They’re like a pack of rabid coyotes in front of a mound of rotting flesh.
‘Now brothers, compose yourselves, don’t forget what we do before we eat. Hold each other’s hands and get ready to join me in prayer.’
Under his command, the boys all turn to Marvin and bow, regaining a grip on their humanity. They follow him in sitting down and then join hands with each another, creating a barrier-like formation around their meal.
Marvin then begins:
Thank you, lord, for the gift of this sacrificial creature. Thank you for bestowing upon us the enjoyment and nutrition its flesh will offer us. We live for your mercy; glory to you.
Amen.
Amen.
‘Let the feast begin!
ABOUT:
Aydin Can Hahne is a German born writer with a Turkish, German, and Irish background. He lives in Liverpool and studies English Literature and Creative Writing at Lancaster University. He has been published in Tap Into Poetry, and he has a short story forthcoming in Seventh Wave’s 2026 anthology.
EDITOR'S SONG PAIRING: Feast - Marbled Eye
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