by Michael C. Keith
I speak now from under the surgeon’s hacksaw as he removes my cranium to access my brain. I’m an involuntary cadaver donor murdered so that a medical school can reveal the secrets of the human form to its students. They surround my lifeless body as the cutting and organ removal proceeds. Expressions of horror and awe cover their faces as I’m adeptly dismantled. Soon I’m reduced to an array of unctuous innards fondled and probed by the interns. Some of me is put in slop buckets next to the surgery table (are they to feed the sows, I wonder?) while other pieces are wrapped and stored for later purposes. When the instructor has completed his dissection, he and his pupils leave me and the amphitheater is darkened. Some hours later, the dome is relit by the hospital custodian, who sits next to my diminished corpse and eats his kidney pie.
*“Nineteenth century practice of killing someone for the purpose of selling the body for dissection.” Oxford English Dictionary.
Category: Fiction, Short Story, SNHU Creative Writing, SNHU online creative writing