Micro-heart

Dear readers,
this collection of short stories was created on a Valentine's Day competition. There were two terms of the competition. The first was that the story could not be longer than 250 words, the second was that a word 'heart' had to be used.
Enjoy reading.


THE CLINIC

–  Who’s the last one?
I raised my hand and the old hag sat next to me.
–  I’m gonna be after you. Oh, Lord, how long I have been waiting for this visit. My heart is pounding.
I turned my head away. She must have understood that I was not in the mood for listening to her nagging because she went quiet. I waited a long time for this visit – a whole, long six months.  A nurse came out of the doctor’s office and asked my neighbour in. I sat closer to the door. The old hag moved her ass closer to me. I had no intention of letting her in before me. The doctor is not a bus. Everybody has to wait.
Twenty minutes later the nurse finally called my name. Inside, there was a tiny office with double doors, a settee and a desk behind which sat the doctor with eyes that have seen everything.
–  Documents, please.
He took my file and pointed to the settee. I sat down and he read my papers as carefully as if it was a matter of life and death. Finally, he grunted and reached into the desk’s drawer. He approached me with a little syringe and a small bottle.
–  It is going to sting a little. – He said.
–  Doesn’t matter. – I replied.
Indeed, it stung a little. Gently, he removed the needle from my vein and put a piece of gauze on the wound.

–  I will come back to you in ten minutes. – The doctor said and placed a plastic box next to me. – Here are some magazines. Please, read and relax. – He said and left. I found a copy of Playboy. Why not? The door opened for a moment and the doctor peeked in.

–  Excuse me, you did not say to whom we should send the corpse.

–  Leave it for research. I don’t have any family.

The doctor disappeared behind the door and I gazed back to the nude girls. With satisfaction I felt the poison run through my body.

THE CUPID

He could not believe that anywhere in the world it can be this cold. Why did the bosses from the headquarters send him for the five hundredth mission to Poland and, what  was worse, in February. His ass almost froze to the pine branch on which he was sitting, and the pine needles were a pain in the ass. The snow was the worst. Who invented it anyway? He glanced at the target. The boy was sitting on a bench with his eyes fixed firmly onto the screen of his Smartphone. He hid in the branches and tried to warm himself but it was no use. He was shaking so bad that the pine on which he sat completely lost it’s snow. The almost invisible bracelet on his wrist vibrated informing him about an incoming message. He pushed a button and the message was played.
– Headquarters to Cupid A13c. In ten seconds the rendezvous will take place. Wait for the green light. Shoot accurately. For the glory of the Empire!
– For the glory.
Muttered the cupid and reached for an arrow from the quiver. He put it on the bowstring and leaned out form his hideout. Right next to the bench there was a beautiful girl running by. She slipped and the target dropped his phone. He is helping her get up. A little diode on the wristband flashed green.
– Now me, and then I’ll go home.
He held his breath, pulled the bowstring and released the arrow.
– Right in the heart!
He clapped his hands when the arrow hit precisely the target. The girl started screaming and ran away. The target wallowed in the snow wheezing, ruckling and staining the snow red. The cupid felt every curl on his head straighten in terror.
– What, the hell, happened?!
He yelled flying down the tree. The wristband vibrated and he habitually pushed the message button.

– Cupid, it’s Mars. I guess after our last party we’ve accidentally switched the quivers…

PASSIONATELY

– I love you. – He said ashamed of such an open display of feelings.
He has never said it to anyone else before. She smiled at him and gently caressed his cheek.
– Don’t be shy. I am here for you and you are here for me. You are magnificent, strong and above all, I feel safe beside you. –  She said kissing his neck.
He felt his heart pounding. He had met her recently and it was hard for him to believe that she become such an important part of his life so quickly.
– I also feel safe beside you. – He was quiet for a while. – Tell me what I can do for you.
She smiled affectionately, slightly amused by his helplessness.
– You don’t have to do anything. I just love you and desire you like nothing else. –  She whispered wrapping her arms around him.
He believed in what he has just heard. He also desired her but was afraid to let her down.
– I…have never done this before. And I’m afraid that…
She pushed him gently on the ground and sat on him. She leaned and whispered to his ear.
– I know this is going to be your first time. It may sound stupid but I can tell. I promise to be gentle.
He said nothing to that. He simply gave in to her eyes and her smile which captivated him from the first sight.

***

Patricia took her nose away from the cold glass and wiped the steam of her breath from the pane. The sound of the bathroom door opening informed her that Michael has just finished his shower. She called:

– I don’t want to upset you, but your mantises, well… one has just devoured the head of the other.

EDITOR’S SUICIDE

Magda put two cups of coffee on a table and sat next to her tearful friend.
– I’m so sorry – cried Justine – this is all my fault. – She mumbled and wept so loud that the sound resonated in the room.
Magda did her best to look at least a little concerned. After all, she had become a widow, but she could not do it.
–It’s not your fault, darling. –She said and patted her friend’s hand in a calming gesture.
– Oh, no. It is. Just yesterday Arthur published a Facebook status which said that if he receives one more poem in which the author uses the words “heart”, “soul” and “love” he will jump out of the window mother-naked. And I mischievously sent him a poem just like this. And he jumped, completely naked.
Justine stopped talking. Magda let go of her friend’s hand and started laughing out loud uncontrollably. She managed to calm down by catching a few deep breaths and said.

– Listen, yesterday I wasn’t supposed to be home but my flight was cancelled and so I came back. Arthur and Agnes were already playing in the bedroom. They didn’t notice me. I hid in the kitchen and waited until that bitch was gone. When she left I grabbed a knife and rushed into the bedroom. I think he saw it in my eyes, that in just a few seconds I was going to rip his balls off so he tried to save himself by escaping through the window. He didn’t make it. It is not your fault or your poem’s although now I know it’ll help me.

Justine looked in her friend’s eyes and started laughing herself.

– I never liked him, you know.

– I know – Magda nodded – and I think I know what to do to Agnes.

HOMEWORK

Adam Sak, class 3c
„What is love?”
Love is when mum is angry with dad and she doesn’t speak to him all day. But when she’s pouring soup for dinner I have to go and tell him to come eat the soup before it cools down. Dad knows he has to eat or mum will get even angrier and she will start shouting but if he eats there’s a chance she will stay quiet.
Every time granny Christine visits us, mum has to stay longer at work. Sometimes even until granny leaves. I’m sad then because granny always knows how she can advise mum. I love granny very much, and mum is surely sorry that she has such a bad job.
Dad has got an imaginary friend. I’m big enough to know there is no such thing but once, when I got up to get something to drink at night I heard dad ask mum if she wants to play with Dick. Then mum asked if dad wants her to kiss him. Dad wanted that. I think it’s nice that mum pretends to believe in dad’s imaginary friend.
I know my parents love me even when they say my feet stink or when I do something they didn’t want me to do. I’m not an adult yet but I think that the most important thing in love is to have a big heart and hard ass. That’s what dad told me.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Sak,
I would like to invite you to talk to the head teacher and the school pedagogy about your son’s essay. The meeting will be held on February 26 at 15.30. If the time of this appointment does not suit you, please telephone the school.

COPY-PASTE

Irreversible severe damage to the myocardium. Transplantation necessary. This much I managed to understand from the doctors’ babble. It was a death sentence. I cried, I prayed, I bit my knuckles in despair. My prayers, however, have been listened. After a month from cardiomyopathy diagnosis, I got a new heart and a bunch of recommendations for future life.
After the operation, I have changed. With strange pleasure I started devouring bloody steaks which made me sick before. My passions and interests also changed. During a routine checkup I asked my doctor about it. All he could tell me was that such things happen after transplantations.
Then unpleasant thoughts caught up with me. Thoughts I haven’t allowed myself before. Thoughts about the donor. They hit me with the force of a speeding truck. A few months before I naively begged God for somebody else’s death just so I could survive. I craved with all my broken heart a heart of an unknown human being.
After that emotional shock I desired only to cry and pray on a grave of that man and thank him for the gift of life. I bought the information about who he was and where he lived. I found his family. I lied that I used to be his friend and found out where he was buried.

On the tombstone adorned with candles I put a bundle of flowers. I sat on a bench and lost myself in prayer. After a while, a young woman sat next to me.

- He didn’t want flowers.  He used to say that taking a life to celebrate death is a mean joke. – She said, and I felt really ashamed. She took a wedding ring off her finger and put it on the tombstone next to my flowers. What she said after that still makes me wake up at night terrified.

- I am not strong enough to fall in love with you for the second time.

IN MY LITTLE GARDEN

When I was eleven, I was a wise child and I knew very well that such a thing as a fairy does not exist.
Until one day…
My parents took me on a trip next to the river Bug. There I saw a sundew for the first time. Actually, I saw a whole meadow of these plants. In the tentacles of one of them something struggled to get free. Gently, I parted the sticky leaves setting free – as it turned out – a magical creature. A little fairy with translucent body and wings like a dragonfly flew out of the trap and hovered in the air right in front of my face.
– You showed me kindness. Tell me, please, what is the most precious thing in the world for you. – It sang into my ear.

– There is nothing more precious than a good human heart. – I replied and the fairy disappeared.

How stupid and naïve of a child I was. Why didn’t I say “gold”?

My parents did not believe me and I do not blame them. I would also think that it was a dream or some childish fable if it wasn’t for one fact. After coming back home I found a pink box in my room. Inside, there was a fresh, still beating human heart. Since then, once a week, the box appeared in my room and I, once a week, buried another heart in my little garden. I never told anyone about it. After twelve years of this horror, I discovered a way to exchange hearts for gold. From that moment, every Saturday a car arrives at my house. People from the car give me a large amount of money, and I give them a heart. A perfect deal. My wallet is full and my garden is resting.

And this is all I can tell you in regards to this case, Your Honor.