Imperial Literature

III: A Kiss for Daddy

But now let us descend to greater woe

-Inferno (Canto VII)

Wansaman had two eyes, which he considered fitting, though each looked out upon a different vastness.

Wansaman was fairly sure of other body parts, too.  He was dimly aware of a beating heart, for instance.  He probably had ears… or at least one, as, every now and again, he sensed a high chattering noise truncated by rhythmic and rather wet mastication that became apparent -he was sure- through means other than thought.  On rare occasions he was conscious of a citrus-like odour that rapidly intensified into what he decided must be flavour, before fading to nothing – somewhere, and probably in the same locality, he sported a conglomeration of taste receptors and epithelia.  And he still had a brain, obviously, otherwise whither awareness?

Wansaman liked to believe there were more parts strewn about, his remaining organs, perhaps even limbs; but he could find no connection to them, try as he might to induce one with the ghostly memories of what it was to be whole.  Moreover, where all these parts might be situated -both those he was certain of and those he only hoped to exist- he had no idea.  For all he knew, his disparate bits were strewn many kilometres apart, those he was conscious of interconnected with monstrously elongated nerve fibres or some other medium…

Xenos medi-  No!  I’m still human!  I’m just exploded.

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