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?
|
3
favs |
1312 views
8 comments |
99 words
All rights reserved. |
Author's Note
Versions of this micro were in Flash Shot, Apollo's Lyre, and Pen Pricks.
Other stories by Jerry Schatz
Tags
Comments
You must
log in
to post comments.
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.