The New Flesh

“I’ve lost my shoe. Can you help me?” Dorothy asked the girl propped on a chair with a blood stained piece of white gauze wrapped around her eyes.

“I would but someone took my eyes.”

“Oh my! Why?”

“I don’t remember but I think I’d like them back.”

“Here,” Dorothy grasped the girl’s hand, “hold onto my arm.”

The girl wrapped a hand around Dorothy’s arm and got up. Dorothy looked down the hall. There was no end and no beginning. Doors lined the vastness on both sides as far as the eye could see.

“So, what’s your name?”

“Harmony,” the girl said.

“Oh, that’s beautiful. My name is Dorothy. Nice to meet you.”

The girl wore ballet slippers on her feet and made no sound as they started down the hall. Dorothy noticed how loud her one shoed foot was on the hardwood floor.

“This is quite uncomfortable,” Dorothy said leaning on the girl attempting to remove the red pump from her foot. “It won’t come off. I’m lopsided when I walk.”

“Maybe someone can take the foot off,” Harmony said.
Dorothy smiled. “Yes, of course. You’re a smart girl Harmony.”

“Thank you.”

Harmony’s hand was cold as Dorothy grasped it and intertwined their fingers like they were long forgotten friends. Click, click, click, went Dorothy’s one high heel on the floor as they followed a herd of five foot white rabbits.

“Do you hear babies crying?” Harmony said.

Dorothy listened intently looking left then right. “I do. It’s coming from that door.” She pointed and put her hand down, embarrassed, and led Harmony to the door.

“Oh goodness,” Dorothy said as she gazed upon a room of gigantic flowers with hairless baby heads, faces scrunched up and red, sticking up in the middle of each.

“They are flowers. Crying flowers.”

“Goodness, they’re loud. Can we pick one?”

“Is that what we are supposed to do?”

A white business card emerged from a baby’s mouth. Dorothy, with Harmony holding her arm, ventured closer. “It cried a business card.”

“Oh, what does it say?”

Dorothy reached out and took the card from the baby’s mouth.

“It says vote for me.”

Harmony bounced on her ballet-slippered feet and clapped her hands.

“Oooo, yay. I love to vote.”

“What are we voting for?” Dorothy said.

“The crying baby flower, I suppose.”

“Right, of course.”

“Where do we vote?” Harmony said.

Dorothy shrugged and sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?”

“Yes, it’s coming from that door.”

“Mmmm,” Dorothy said as she opened the door.

“I hear clinking and sizzling. I hear conversations and running water. Is it a restaurant?”

“It is.”

“Chinese?”

“Yes.”

“I am hungry. Want to eat?”

“I guess…I don’t know if they let our kind in here,” Dorothy said.

“Oh.”

The maitre de approached them. “Would you ladies like a table?”

Harmony turned her head and whispered in Dorothy’s ear. “He smells.”

Dorothy nodded and the tuxedoed werewolf showed them to a table by the window.

“So what can I get you two?” He took out his notepad and placed his reading glasses on the tip of his nose.

“I’ll have a diet coke and Kung Pao Chicken. Is it spicy?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Oh, I do. I do,” Dorothy said.

“Me too,” Harmony said.

Dorothy watched the Asian werewolf with the chef’s hat chop and toss meat and vegetables on a hot griddle.

“Do you think the bunnies know?” An abnormal smell slapped Dorothy in the face.

Harmony felt for the straw in her diet coke, found it and brought it to her lips.

“Yum, that’s good. What bunnies?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m done,” Harmony said.

“Me too but we didn’t eat,” Dorothy said.

“That’s okay. Let’s go find your eyes.”

“I have my eyes,” Dorothy said.

The wolfey maitre de scowled at them and muttered something under his breath as they left the restaurant.

Band music assaulted their ears as they walked back into the hallway.

“It’s a parade,” Dorothy said.

“I hear wheels.”

“Yes, it’s little people riding tricycles and a band is following them. Oh and the bunnies are behind the band.”

Dorothy clapped and watched as they came closer. A three foot tall bald guy dressed all in red velvet walked in front of the ones on the trikes, holding a box in one hand and a baton in the other. He walked over to Dorothy and held the box out. “Ma’am your vote.”

“What are we voting for?” Dorothy asked.

“Whether we take your eyes, you won’t need them here.”

“Right.”

“Your eyes,” Harmony said.

Dorothy placed her voter card in the black box and the little man promptly whacked her on the side of her head with the baton.

“Owww,” Dorothy said and put her hand over the wounded area. Blood trickled down into her ear. She looked at her bloodied hand and said, “Why’d you do that?”

“Because you won, of course.”

Harmony bounced on her slippered feet. “Yay Dorothy won!”

Dorothy smiled. “What did I win?”

“What did she win?” Harmony said.

“Why, to have your eyes removed of course. Such an honor,” the little man smiled, his eyes gleamed with pride and excitement.
Two white rabbits flanked each side of Dorothy. “This way, this way,” they said as they escorted her to a door she hadn’t seen before.

“What about Harmony?” She looked back at Harmony. “I think I was looking for my other shoe.” Harmony smiled.

“No, you weren’t. You don’t need those eyes anyway, silly. You don’t really use them.” The little man said.

“I’ll be okay. You go. I’m so happy for you,” Harmony said pushing the gauze slipping down her face back over her hollow eye sockets.

“Me too,” Dorothy said and started to wave. Standing at the door jamb she quickly said, “Thanks for your help.” She was pulled inside and the door shut behind her.

Harmony sat in the chair she was in when she met Dorothy. “Now where did I leave my shoe?”

"Distractions"
Copyright: © 2009 Suzie Bradshaw
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Suzie Bradshaw loves speaking and writing about herself in the third person. She also doubts that light is really the fastest thing in the universe and in her next life she will prove Einstein wrong. But in this life all she wants to do is write. Is that a song? She's had stories published on Microhorror.com and SNMHorrormag.com. Suzie says thank you for reading!