How I Cured Your Heart

I performed surgery on your heart, at night while you slept. I worked slowly so as not to wake you: it took a whole night just to make the initial incision across your chest, and three more to cut down through the layers of bone and tissue.

At one point, as I clamped off your arteries, you began to stir—I panicked and realized I should have thought of an excuse, some explanation that would have made sense to you. But I held my breath and you settled back down. If I had to explain it would be too late for surgery, anyway.

Once your heart was out I sat there all night, alone, getting it exactly the way I wanted it. As soon as you opened your eyes I’d be able to tell if the surgery had worked or not. I put your heart back into your chest, sewed you up and laid down next to you, waiting for the sun to begin streaming through the windows.