Heritage by Suzi Mezei
A chicken’s spine has thirty-nine bones.
This one’s got yellowish, puckered skin; its fresh-dead head, wings, gnarled feet still intact.
Acci says concentrate. I’m ready to dissect, now; to render the creature heartless, gutless, devoid of all the intricacies that made it live. Concentrate.
Acci sharpened the blade herself. I slice deep and flesh splits. Focus.
I’m focused, Acci. I am. I lift my hand to block her doubt.
Acci gasps. The bench turns tepid scarlet. The black-eyed carcass hides half a finger. I disown the heirloom knife.
There are twenty-seven bones in the human hand.
Suzi Mezei is a Sri Lankan born Australian writer. Her work has appeared in several publications including Hecate, Burrow and Cordite. She is the recipient of some awards and her work was selected for Microflix. She is vaccinated, restless and planning an escape to the old country some time.