A Cellular Life #3…

HM15 003

…Bill smiled condescendingly before slipping his arm through mine…
“There is something sinister about teeth,” he said thoughtfully, ” when all your other physical attributes have been rendered indistinguishable, reduced to unrecognisable mush, recourse to your dental record still, apparently, enables the authorities to identify what to all intents and purposes, is now just a muddy mess. They’re still keen, in spite of the fact that you yourself have lost interest and relinquished all claim on the body you’d grown accustomed to calling your own, they’re still dead set on identifying it and tidying up their files with the rubber stamp which finally puts the seal on your life. It’s almost as though identity and the propensity to kill are inextricably linked in some way and the authorities, although themselves well aware of the link, have deliberately failed to inform us about it. ”
Bill’s friend smiled condescendingly before slipping his arm through mine…
“There is something sinister about teeth,” he said thoughtfully. “Something which first needs to be aired, and then ironed out… That beautiful smile which turns us all on and sets things in motion so fluidly is, essentially, teeth. It’s heartening to think that the very attributes which a very long time ago first combined to make us killers, revealed together in a shining crescent can also be our most disarming feature. It’s a little triumph of evolution to have finally welcomed death into the very heart of proceedings and allowed her to tickle our fancy in this way, to have so neatly and so attractively slotted her in. It’s somewhat salutary to eventually realise that we’re the only species capable of assisting evolution in her quest to produce the adorable killer. The loveable, laughable apes, those cheeky guinea-pig men, it is true, try very hard… yet for all their amusing and very commendable efforts, monkey smiles simply make them look ugly.”
We started to pace the white-tiled floor of my room in step, but slowly… ever so slowly.
“Women smile better than men,” said Bill, “they make a pact with evolution when they’re still girls and although it’s sometimes hard work they teach themselves to smile effectively. Some of the most beautiful smiles ever smiled have in fact at the same time been packed full of deceit and the happy recipient, dazzled by teeth simply failed to notice the warning signs. ”
“Teeth are the veils to new dimensions,” said Bill’s friend,” their roots burrow inches deep into your jaw and then they fan out like tree branch to caress the many hundreds of delicate muscles in your face which all pull together to produce a smile, from there they spread like contrary rivers into your head and are finally knotted into those centres of the brain which perceive divinity.
Once completely toothless you’re free to converse with all of the Gods together… ”
We had reached the far end of my room. Bill’s friend licked the tip of his finger, reached out and marked a long line in the condensation which had formed on the white tiles of my room. The tiles squeaked their disapproval. We turned around to face the door…
“Remember?” said Bill and then he tapped the right side of his nose three times with his forefinger and smiled.
Still smiling he looked to the window at the top of my room.
I nodded slowly, as the door again clanged shut on me.
I walked to the corner of my room and stepped into the lift…

– The Lost Novel

HM15 004

7 thoughts on “A Cellular Life #3…

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