Pieces
by Jerry Schatz
If I'd been a nose the smell of formaldehyde would have been unbearable, but I was a kidney. I was a whole man once. Now my home was a numbered bottle in a crime lab. I felt coils of self-pity tighten. Is this how it ends? As I damned my fate a technician brought in a new bottle and placed it next to mine. It was an ear. I sensed it was an organ I knew. By God, it was Priscilla! Unmistakable -- that curled-in lobe. How many years had it been? Priscilla! Do I hear violins?
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Author's Note
Versions of this micro were in Flash Shot, Apollo's Lyre, and Pen Pricks.
Other stories by Jerry Schatz
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this is nice! *
Well, yeah, I guess it's nice in a way. Thanks for the star, Bobbi.
Ace! Really enjoyed this quirky wee piece, and its perfect end. Fave
Gill, thanks for your comments on this "wee piece," a Scottish turn of phrase if I ever heard one. And thanks for the fave!
What an odd, little story with a wonderful twist. Priscilla indeed.*
Thanks, JP, for the comments and the star. Also for "odd" and "wonderful" as descriptors.
Odd little story, I enjoyed it :) nice.
Thanks, Kait. I wrote it in response to a "write about love" prompt.