One of the Chosen Chambers

by Tom Busillo

Last night, an insect crawled out of the stump of your leg and began chittering and growing until it reached the size of a cat. I watched in awe, mesmerized by its blue and silver beauty, peacefully observing until it spoke to me, “I’m really helpful and I won’t hurt.” I couldn’t stop thinking this creature was the one thing in this world I would keep with me for the rest of my life. I ripped open my chest and let it crawl inside of me and felt ripples of contentment. Upon awakening, you spread your arms, and a sudden look of concern spread across your face. You couldn’t stop muttering, “I’ve lost it, I’ve lost it.” When you finally turned to me after I kept asking what was wrong, your eyes told me you knew exactly what I’d done, but also knew better than to ask me for its return, for it had chosen me.

Tom Busillo's (he/his) writing has appeared or is forthcoming in McSweeney's, PANK, The Broadkill Review, and elsewhere. He is a Best Small Fictions nominee and is the author of the unpublishable 2,646-page conceptual poem "Lists Poem," composed of 11,111 nested 10-item lists. He's now focusing on much shorter work. He lives in Philadelphia, PA.