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My Rat

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Rat took my hand and led me into his surgery. The air was metallic with blood and a body lay gaping on bleached white lino in the middle of the room. “The heart was no good” Rat said to me casually, “too fatty.” A blue and white cooler box stood open on a counter on the far side of the room. “Want to see it?” he asked me smiling, his eyes were eager and I could tell that he wanted to share what he loved with me. “Yes” I said smiling back. I found it grotesque but my love for him drowned my disgust and I too wanted to be a part of what he loved. He took my hand and led me to the cooler. The liver sat turgid on a bed of ice. The brown flesh looked slippery and I dropped him and felt myself reaching to touch it. I knew it would feel the same as pigs’ liver but the fact it came from the human body made it phenomenal to me. Rat laughed quietly and took my face in his hands. He kissed me on the mouth. His tongue moved with mine and I imagined us as two pieces of flesh slipping together, moulding into each other, as the liver slips and moulds with the lungs and stomach.





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