I’m in love with your bodies

Ed Sheeran took his tiny guitar to the Gaza Strip. He was hoping to make amends for all that business with his concert and sacking off Michael Moore for being too political.

As he picked over the rubble, he thought again about what he’d done. To be honest, he still wasn’t really sure what all the fuss was about or why the promoters had made him have someone all right on as a support act in the first place.

He kicked a bald, half-melted Tiny Tears head up the deserted street and had another go at shouting.

“Hello? Is anyone here? It’s the ginger singer and former busker, Ed Sheeran. I’d like to play you one of my songs. Hello? Anyone?”

He stood silently for a moment, leaving space for a reply, but all he heard was the wind whistling through exposed cables in the collapsed apartment blocks

He knew there’d been some stuff going on here, but he was genuinely surprised that there was literally no one about who wanted to hear Galway Girl.

“Hello? I can do the one about Castles if you want. Hello?”

Something shifted in a stack of debris a couple of meters ahead of him. A charred teddy bear, its leg trapped under a slab of concrete, visibly sighed and looked as if it was going to stand up. Ed Sheeran flinched at the sight and quickly raised his tiny guitar over his head, like a Samurai sword. 

Teddy Bears aren’t alive here, are they? Is that the thing that happened? He thought to himself.

A rat scuttled out from under the teddy. It looked all wrong. It had weepy eyes and was a bit foamy round the whiskers. It stopped right in front of Sheeran and looked up at him, sniffing the air.

Ed Sheeran lowered his tiny guitar. The rat clearly meant him no harm.

“Hello, boy,” said Ed Sheeran. “Where is everyone, eh?”

The rat nonchalantly cleaned some of the foamy stuff off its whiskers with its tiny paws. Ed Sheeran crouched down.

“I was going to do them a song to cheer them up a bit, what do you reckon, boy?”

The rat started gnawing at a sore on the bit where its tail met its arse. 

“Well, perhaps I’ll just do it for you, Mr Rat.”

Ed Sheeran stood up and started tuning his tiny guitar. He continued to address the disinterested rat.

“Maybe some kids’ll hear it and come out. I can do them some autographs and selfies and that, draw some of my maths signs on their arms or whatever.”

The rat stopped gnawing and looked right at him. Ed Sheeran smiled at the Rat.

“I can see you’re into it! I’ll do that shape of you one.” He cleared his throat and made ready. But just as he was about to do his first strum, something unexpected happened… 

The rat spoke. 

In a much deeper voice than you might imagine, it said, “Don’t you think these people have suffered enough?”