Surgery – Curse #4934

Posted on December 29, 2011


He was laying on a cold metal table and his girlfriend was above him. Not this again, he said.

She hovered with a scalpel and a rough outline of his anatomy that she had drawn herself. Yes, she said through a surgical mask. It is this again. She raised the scalpel menacingly.

He burped with fear. Excuse me, he said.

You are not excused, she said.

Can’t we talk about this, he asked.

No, she said. She elaborated. Your right half is pretty bad, she said. You are cold and disruptive and rational beyond rational means.  She put the scalpel down and an axe appeared. The axe was very serious looking.

That makes no common sense, he said.

She slapped him with the back of her hand. Quiet, she said. She continued, but your left half is decent. This is where your heart is. You are helpful because of this half. I need to give you a surgical adjustment. You need the heart to be in the middle. You need a middle path.

How Buddhist of you, he said.

She slapped him with the back of her hand. Quiet, she said. You would be perfectly fine if your left half ruled everything, except of course for the paranoia which also lives in your left side. She dropped the axe and a sword appeared, a very unruly sword. She could barely hold it up.

I always knew you would do this, he said. I knew you would cut me open some day. Play with my heart. Move it around.

That is unimportant now, she said. The sword was gone and in it’s place was an electric saw. The sound of the saw was unmistakable and he knew she was going to cut his chest open and rearrange his insides. She was acting all Buddhist now. She wanted his heart to be around at all times, in the middle. Brrrrzzzzzzzzzzzz, the saw sang. He burped with fear.




Posted in: Year 1: Curse