The Greatest Narcissist on Earth
by Jodi Barnes
I forgot how masterful you are, way better than a pickpocket. After our meeting, I drove home with one hand. It felt funny but I figured I'd absentmindedly put the other in my purse or tossed it into the backseat with my jacket.
In my driveway, two metatarsals tumbled out the driver's side door. My spleen is a splatter on the right rear hubcap. At least they explain some minor aches and pains.
Before I could grab the ibuprofen in the kitchen, I saw my reflection in the microwave door: my throat a bloody mess, larynx flapping against my collarbone.
I thought back to walking through the shiny door, ordering my coffee, sitting down across from you. As soon as I spoke, you interrupted, called our child a liar, a druggie, but not a whore like last year. I was grateful she wasn't there; it's taken her 14 months to put herself back together.
I don't remember you touching me, no handshake or the slightest brush against your Rolex on my way out. I wondered why it got harder to hear you; I just found what might be my left ear. I think I'm losing the better half of my heart.
What do I do with these pieces? You have bought up all the ice on this road. You own every hospital for miles; all the doctors are in your pocket.
As much damage as you've done, I have to hand it to you—here, take this one—you're the man, making people think they can come apart all by themselves.
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Author's Note
Stranger than fiction sums it up.
Interesting piece.*
Yes, the body parts in this story have a fictional life of their own, as if the narrator is resisting fiction (I know that feeling) but the body asserts its style in a fall from grace. *
Weirdly wonderful, without tipping into the absurd.
Sometimes we are what we cannot take with us. Love the raw humanity of this.
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Good writing. My favorite part -
"I don't remember you touching me, no handshake or the slightest brush against your Rolex on my way out. I wondered why it got harder to hear you; I just found what might be my left ear. I think I'm losing the better half of my heart."
Rich symbolism of a doctor dissecting a human as though it was only flesh. This is excellent. You use the symbolism of the physical anatomy, but the gore is not physical, because it is psychological. *
great! i'm a big fan of body segmentation!
surreal and troubling.*
Thank you all for your supportive comments!
Really nice writing, Jodi. Such a calm voice throughout words of such carnage. I love the way you put this together.
Oh oh oh this is smashing! You speak for every woman who has ever been drawn in close by a narcissist.
"I have to hand it to you—here, take this one—you're the man, making people think they can come apart all by themselves" is PERFECT. ****
ouch, absurd, nice transformation of how something feels to how a person becomes with those feelings, poignant.
Love this part.
"You have bought up all the ice on this road. You own every hospital for miles; all the doctors are in your pocket."
And the end.
"As much damage as you've done, I have to hand it to you—here, take this one". At this point, like turned to love. Man, I enjoyed this!
This is how imagination works.
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This is for all of us who have been torn apart by someone, right? I appreciate your spin on the feeling. I'm still smiling. fave
Enjoyed the treatment of the physical to represent the emotional control. Good.