Whir by J.Bradley
I opened my mother like a smile. The obstetrician pulled me out of her belly and announced “It’s a boy, with chainsaws?”
My parents were not avid Edward Scissorhands fans. They didn’t believe in gene modification to weed out all the imperfections, disarm the traps and diffuse the explosives. Let God sort you out, my parents said.
I learned quickly how to control the blades, will them to stay off after my dog looked more and more like a wounded manatee. My parents took pride how they stood like spoiled slaughterhouses.
School was fun until I discovered girls. One time “Seven Minutes In Heaven” turned into “Seventy Hours In The ER”; I left my heart in the stitches tethering her fingers to her hands.
I’m the mayor, now. I’m having a movie made about my life. I hear a recovering addict will play the role of “me”, someone who knows how to live like a lumberjack with lots of ambition, poor dexterity.
–
J. Bradley is the author of Dodging Traffic (Ampersand Books, 2009). He once interviewed Emmanuel Lewis with a Spider-Man PEZ Dispenser.
J. Bradley lives at iheartfailure.net
© 2010, Metazen. All rights reserved.
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