Flash Fiction: Leftovers

I rose from the floor, a skinny and plain afterbirth.

I found Sean in his apartment, and he was utterly confused when I broke down and cried.

I told him of Jekyll’s elixir. That I was a fool. That the beautiful woman he’d pined for and thought was my roommate, was — and now wasn’t — me.

In tears I speak of last night, of how I divided like a cell. Of how my superior self arose, and at last liberated from her weaknesses, left for Cancún.

Of how I was just the worthless, leftover remains she’d rejected.

No,” he said. “You’re all the parts I loved.”

He held me.

I was whole.

I never felt worthless again.

 

 

 

Copyright © 2019 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.

Discover more of my Aethereal Musings.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: