You do? Well, you asked.
Once upon a time there was a handsome man. He too knew the art of chainsaw juggling, but he could only do it when the chainsaws were unplugged–otherwise, he became entangled in the extension cords. Still, I was impressed; it was so romantic, watching him practice.
After a long evening of chainsaw rehearsals, only occasionally stopping to bandage minor lacerations, he leaned in for a kiss. I felt his sweet breath on my face as he exclaimed, “What beautiful eyes you have!” Before I could answer, “The better to drink in your glorious soul” (because, you know, I’m poetic that way), I became aware of a hot viscous sensation and a loud slurping noise. I looked up and saw my love sticking out his tongue–my left eye in his mouth! He laughed in my face. I cried the tears of a one-eyed woman–which are not so many as the tears of a two-eyed woman, but still very sad.
Heartbroken, I patched my pride (and my socket) the best I could. My friend Lisa took me to the Bleeding Deacon that night to drown my sorrows in a few shots of Jameson’s. Guess who I saw at the bar? That’s right–that villain. Since he was on my left, at first I didn’t see him, but when I swiveled my barstool to look, he was chatting up some Goth girl, plying her with martinis. He pulled her toothpick out of her drink, swallowed the olive, and replaced it, yes, with my eye. A sick smile spread across her black lips as she raised the glass to my ruined heart.
After calling them “eye-thieving bitches” and throwing PBR bottles at them, Lisa took me to a pawnshop on Gravois and bought me a glass eye for $6. It is merely brown, unlike the glowing amethyst eye I was born with, but it will have to do. I have seen too much already.
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This story was performed at June's production of Action Fiction!, sponsored by Omnibucket, Fiction365, and The San Francisco Writer's Community. Read all Action Fiction! stories here.
