My Sinister Side

At first, I
didn’t pay it much attention: a wafting discomfort, hardly a touch. A week
later, a slight pulsation, barely a few seconds at the time. When it returned,
within a few days, it was more a tightening, a pressure, followed by a twinge.
Nothing to worry about. Under the left arm. Always the left.

A current shot
through the length of my arm, throbbing, stopping at the wrist. Always the

A sharp
ache in my knee. A sting in the knee of my left leg. The ankle and the leg tingling
with pins and needles. The left leg. Always the left.

One at a
time, I could tolerate. I could ignore. But when they came together, all the
pains, all the twinges, all the soreness, strong and united, I squirmed. I held
my breath. I screamed in anguish.

It was too
much to bear. Too much to live with. What was I to do?

I spoke to
a friend. Or rather, half a friend. He had empathy and sent me to a person who
had helped him. No, he didn’t have a problem with his left side. But he wanted
to appear as half man, and half invisible. He needed to be cut in half. ‘His
new shape,’ he said, ‘offered infinite opportunity.’

‘Here is
the address. No need for an appointment. He is in demand,’ my friend said,
handing me a business card, ‘but he works around the clock. Like an assembly
line. You will be seen in no time.’

And so I
went to the man cutter. Man and woman cutter, to be precise.

You must
agree, he did an excellent job. He cut away my sinister side, leaving my better
half. Aesthetically, it is more pleasing too. I feel whole again.