Auctorial Abscondences in Opusculum

A Human Heart

From the road, it was a squat, flat building, painted in brick. The tiled roof barely showed over the rolling grass as Ceri sped along the road. Bits of rock kicked the underside of the car like bullets.

When the car stopped, it was with a crunch of stone. Ceri pulled herself out, and stood with a hand on the door of her car. The front door of the centre was swung inwards, and it slightly unnerved her.

It was open.
She pulled out the white plastic bag and began to walk. The slam of the car door behind her made her jump in her step, but Ceri kept walking, trying to keep balance on her heels across the stony path. Sally grabbed her free hand.

"Mum, why are we here?"

Ceri stopped for a moment, and looked down.
"This is where your great uncle lives."

She kept walking until they were inside.

"What's your name, miss?"

He was gentle, authenticity sung from his whole face when it lit up. Perhaps it was the way he tipped his head, or the way he had held her jacket as she passed it across, but Ceri didn't dislike him.

"Kerryanne Daxter."

She spelled it for him, coughing once to dislodge a piece of food stuck in the back of her throat. Sally tugged at the hem of her dress.

"And, if you don't mind me asking so, could I take a look at the bag?" the man asked.

His extended hand couldn't be described as rough, despite his age, because no sinew showed underneath his skin.

She held the bag open while holding it up, showing him. He grinned again with his crow's feet. Inside there was a white card box, four donuts visible. The plastic insert that served as a window had come loose and lay at the bottom of the bag.

He straightened up, and waved her in. Goosebumps ran up the exposed skin on her arms, from the cold of the air and the warmth of his face. He was a stranger to no one who saw him. She hurried away before her plastic fell away too.

Ceri began to feel sick

The floor was scuffed with black marks, the ghosts of hospital trolleys ferried fore and aft the small building, but the only sound was from doors slowly opening and shutting all around. Ceri would have liked them all to just stay open.

Sally pulled at her dress again.
"Mum!"

Ceri stopped, realising she had been almost jogging.
"Sorry, honey. What's up?"

"I need to go to the bathroom."

"Alright, sweety. Where is it?"

Sally pointed a small finger at the sign. Ceri followed.

The sound of the stall closing and locking was immense in the small room. Ceri looked at her reflection. It stared into her.

She thought about that night. Both her and her reflection had sat on the old leather couch, sipping through straws a can of beer. Grace had been laughing, and so had Ceri. It was summer, and the fan in the corner had done little to change that.

Then the door had slammed closed behind them and then it slammed again and then the lights went out and everything went black

Ceri rubbed the top of her ear, feeling the rough edge against her skull. Sally finished in the toilet, and soon enough they were closed in a little corridor again

It led to an office. Ceri closed the door and sat down opposite the lady.

She was a lady because her suit had been freshly pressed and her hair tied up behind her head. Ceri felt herself straighten up in her seat.