Short Fiction

Little Donkey

She arrived in Westminster for work experience with Boris Johnson, but she could never have imagined where she'd end up with Keir Starmer...


I’d always been a little bit interested in politics so imagine my joy when I got a phone call from Boris Johnson saying he’d read my CV and that it was very promising.

He asked me to email him a full length picture of myself and said that he’d be making a decision that day.

I sent him the best selfie I could manage.

He replied asking me to send another picture but this time without my jumper on.

I sent one back quickly and he replied within 2 minutes asking me to start on Wednesday.

I was to be his intern for the next few months. I couldn’t be happier.

It took a while to get through security but eventually I was in The House of Commons! I was so excited. Now I needed to find his office.

The House of Commons is a big place with hundreds of people milling about, so it was not going to be easy to find. I looked around to see if I could see a familiar face. I spotted Laura Kuensberg, she was trying to take a selfie with the Margaret Thatcher statue.

I went over and offered to take the picture for her.

“Och, that would be great” she said in a Scottish accent.

I took some pictures for her and then asked directions to Boris Johnsons office. “Och” she said “I dinnae think ye wannee be gaen there wee lassie”

“Oh I have to” I said “I’m doing work experience”

She laughed and said “Och, I hope you’re on the pill” and then pointed to some stairs.

Then she turned around to face a TV camera and said “This is the news”.

I turned in the direction she had pointed just in time to see Michael Gove tripping on a banana skin that Anna Soubry had dropped in front of him on purpose. He cut his head open very badly. Dominic Raab came running over, but not to help him, he just laughed, got his penis out and pissed on the blood, which did sort of do the job of washing it away.

I had my my first aid qualification but decided not to get involved. Michael Gove managed to get up but then he slipped again on the blood and Dominc Raab’s piss. This time nobody went to help.

As he lay on the floor he had a resigned look on his face. It seemed like it had happened before. Possibly every day. Eventually Ed Milliband walked past him and booted him in the head really hard with his steel toe capped boots. He was unconscious now and that seemed like the best possible outcome.

I began to climb the stairs, my whole body was tingling. I was SO nervous. I was about to meet The Prime Minister.

I walked along the corridor that housed offices for all of the shadow cabinet, it was amazing seeing the names on all the doors and also how everyone had personalized them. For example, Rishi Sunak had a poster of Carol Vorderman on his office door and Matt Hancock had Wrestle Mania.

As I approached Boris Johnsons office door I could hear a trombone and lots of laughter. It sounded like there were a lot of people in there. I knocked but it was so noisy nobody heard me. Eventually I tentatively opened the door, I didn’t want to be late after all!

The small dark room was filled with men wearing rugby shirts with the collars turned up tucked into reddish pink jeans. They were all drinking tankards of beer and pushing each other around. In the middle of them all was Boris Johnson. He had his trousers around his ankles and was drinking a yard of ale. I noticed he was wearing suspenders for his socks.

Suddenly, my presence was noticed. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at me.  Boris Johnson passed the yard of ale to one of his friends and quickly pulled up his trousers.

“You” he said pointing at me “You’re my new helper, yes?”

“Yes” I said.

“Great great, Carpe diem! Carpe diem! Young filly! Seize the day, fill in for me. I just need to go out for a few hours.”

“What do you need me to do?” I asked.
“PMQ’s” It’s at 12 O’clock.

“You want me to fill in for you at PMQ’s?” I couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing.

“Yes yes, you can do it, I read your cv, you know about politics and stuff”.
Before I could answer him his friends picked him up on their shoulders and jeering and shouting they ran off with him down the corridor. I peered after them and spotted one of them shooting an air gun at Michael Gove who was just crawling back into his office.

I looked at the clock, I had just a couple of hours to prepare to be questioned. I hoped that the leader of the opposition, Sir Keir Starmer would go easy on me. The problem was though, just thinking about him even a tiny bit made me blush. I’d wanted to apply to do work experience with him but I was afraid that I couldn’t cope with being aroused for 8-12 hours a day.

I decided to just be as honest as I could with my answers and say “I don’t know” if I didn’t know the answer to something, which was quite likely.

I put the radio on and started to tidy away all the beer glasses. There was also an empty piñata hanging from the ceiling and I found not one but 7 cricket bats. I cleared it all away, mopped the spilt alcohol from the floor had a cup of tea and then it was time, time for my first ever PMQ’s.

The chamber was almost empty because the corona virus had killed everyone in the world over the age of 60 except Michael Palin. It was just me, and Sir Keir Starmer and that bloke that bangs a hammer. It was very tense, I was aware that I was being filmed and that this was being broadcast across the world.

That bloke that bangs a hammer banged it and I stood up.

“Any questions?” I asked, trying to look at Sir Keir Starmer but finding it incredibly difficult to meet his eye.

He looked at me warmly. “Is this your first day?”

“Yes, yes it is, but you can ask me anything” I replied.

He laughed and loosened his tie slightly.

Seeing slightly more of his neck than usual was almost too much to bear but I just about managed to bear it.

“Seriously! I said indignantly, you can ask me anything!”

“Ok” he said. “Do you like donkeys?”

“Pardon me?”

“Do you like donkeys?”

“Of course I do!” I replied. “Everyone likes donkeys. They have kind eyes.”

Sir Keir Starmer took off his blazer and threw it over the TV camera. He turned to that bloke with the hammer and calmly asked him to leave immediately.

Now it was just me and him, in the house of commons.

“Would you like to help me birth a donkey?”

I look at him quizzically, had he gone mad?

“You see, I bought my Mum a donkey sanctuary for retired donkeys and it turns out not all the donkeys were past it. I now have a pregnant donkey and she needs help. Will you come with me?” He reached his hand across the desk thingy and I took it.

In the car Sir Keir Starmer loosened his tie even further and drove with one hand whilst resting his elbow out of the window. Baker Street played on repeat on the radio. Just the saxophone bit. I was feeling wild with longing but was not sure what his intentions were.

When we got there it was dark all of a sudden. He leant me some wellington boots because the 6 inch stilleto’s that Boris Johnson had told me I had to wear were no good for the donkey stable.

I watched intently as Sir Keir Starmer finally took off his tie entirely and changed into his own wellington boots. I noticed they still had fresh mud on from this morning. He must really love those donkeys I thought to myself.

He led me into the stables and straight away I could hear the panting and whinnying of a donkey in pain. We found her lying in some fresh straw. Sir Keir Starmer was at her side immediately. He gently lifted her head and placed it on his knee. Stroking her and whispering comforting words to her. I knelt beside her and started to do the same.

“Can you just check her vagina for me?” asked Sir Keir Starmer.

I checked the donkeys vagina and could see two little legs sticking out of it.

“She needs to push” I said, instinctively.

“Go on my girl”, Sir Keir Starmer said to the donkey. “One big push and you’ll be a Mum.”

The donkey pushed and within moments, and rush of blood, there was a squirming little donkey on the floor.

Sir Keir Starmer quickly unbuttoned his shirt and used it to clean the blood off the baby donkey. Underneath his shirt he was wearing a white vest. He was much more muscular than I ever imagined possible.

I tried to focus my attention on the donkeys but it was hard.

And then I realised. So was he.

He laid me down next to the mother donkey and we made love in the hay. When we had finished the baby donkey wobbled over to us and curled up in Sir Keir Starmer’s lap.

We all slept for a while and then Sir Keir Starmer gently woke me with a soft kiss on my forehead and said “I best get you back to The House of Commons”

It was true.

I had work experience to do and the country wasn’t just going to run itself.

About the author


Zena Barrie lives in Manchester and co runs the Greater Manchester Fringe and The Camden Fringe, she also does spoken word when it’s allowed. Her book, ‘Your Friend Forever‘ will be published by award-winning press, Unbound, on 15 April 2021. You can pledge to pre-order a copy here – 


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: