I stared at it, cradled in my hand, and wondered what to do with this. Brittany turned on the sink and began to scrub her hands with a generous dollup of soap. Silently, we both listened to the wet slurps and drips as flesh rubbed against slimy flesh.
Brittany turned off the sink and shook the excess water from her hands. It wasn’t until after she had dried them and walked herself to the door that she looked at me. For a moment our eyes met, and I saw them soften with pity. She walked to my cupboard and took out a large bowl and set it on the counter. Carefully, she gripped me by the wrists and guided my hands to the bowl, forcing them open until the heart slipped out from between palms. I blinked slowly, watching it writhe in the bowl.
She inspected her hands carefully, but not satisfied, she washed them again. Brittany then strode to the door and left without a word.
expressions of madness in an empty universe