Breakup Interlude
by Casey
It is the typical last stage of the breakup. The last meeting. The prisoner exchange. As she walks up, you notice her 5'4 frame is more trecherous than ususal. You sit in neutral territory, a food cout in the local mall. She puts a Victoria's Secret bag on the chair next to her. You eye the paper Publix bag next to your leg.
'Did you rememeber my walkman?,' she asks.
You give her the bag, 'Sure. Did you remember my 'Black Coffee Blues' book?'
She ignores you and instead inspects the contents of the bag. Looking at the other end of the food court, you spy her new boyfriend buying a cookie. He gives a more than modest glance over the sixteen year old cookie girl. He sees you looking and turns his guilty stare in another direction. She still has not answered you. Instead she says, 'You forgot one thing.'
'What?'
'THIS . . . !' With an animal like attack, she has reached her arm across the table and digs her hand into your chest cavity, deep into the rib cage. Just as quickly, she withdraws her hand. You see that she is holding your still beating heart. You look at your chest and admire the surgical precision that she used. Hardly any blood at all. She drops the heart in her bag of stuff and it hits the bottom with a dull thud.
'Oh, that,' you say with a smirk. 'I won't be needing that anymore. You get up to leave and hear her say some kind of line like 'See you around' or something like that. Fuck it. You are out of there.
'Cool,' you think to yourself. 'I thought she was going to ask for her Crystal Method CD back.'
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