“Beautiful!” the anesthesiologist said as he peered into my open mouth. Nobody had ever complimented me on my airway before, and I could feel a blush begin. It rose from the commas of my toes, unbuttoning the canals of my veins, my blood-caves and bone-shelters, capturing yellow heat in the back of my throat, daring me to swallow. By the time it kissed the roots of my hair, I smelled smoke. The doctor, surprised that my goose bumps were answering his words in another language, said, “I’ll ask the nurse to bring you a blanket. You look a little chilly.”
Paul A. Freeman
20/10/2023 12:40:28 pm
Lost in translation. In the Middle East 'beautiful' is a synonym of 'nice'.
Cheryl Snell
21/10/2023 02:09:29 pm
Nice? The protagonist must be a little high-strung, then! Thanks for reading this, Paul.
david milner
21/10/2023 10:45:00 am
Shiver of prose from the commas of my toes. Lovely, Cheryl.
Cheryl Snell
21/10/2023 02:10:20 pm
Thanks so much, David. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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