Headaches

Hello Ether,

Boy do I have a story for you!

After a series of seemingly random headaches, a sly paranoia that I had brain cancer and a brief conversation with my papa (the dentist) I was booked in to have my wisdom tooth out. Just the one, it had strayed towards my cheek like a shy lover. With a satisfying crunch, not too dissimilar from biting into an unexpected piece of curry cartilage, I became one quarter less wise.

I am currently going over the options of what to do with t

he spare tooth. Papa assures me that it will smell for a little while as the flesh around the tooth dies. I am considering an earring as I think that would be rugged. I also considered a bull-styled nose ring, but as the picture below shows in too-full detail, I would look like a junkie.

I think that teeth are hugely overlooked horror icons. Most movies will skip straight to the eye and the nails for their grotesque motifs. If you listen to my papa, people have an aversion to teeth (or rather, teeth being outside of the body/being taken out of the body) because they are a primary weapon for defense and attack. If you ever see a monkey and they're pissed off, they will flash their canines. If someone is angry, they snarl their lip. It's a subconscious indicator of aggression. Because our teeth are our first weapon and the instinct to protect them is rooted deep in our psyche and therefore a perfect place to push the boundaries of the grotesque.

This is an unfinished draft of my book. I don't think I will end up using it, the preceding passage far surpasses it in awesomeness.

Bai Ether.

x

"I felt him take my hand and press it against his lips. He curled all my fingers down except the forefinger so that looked as though I was pointing at him. He ran my forefinger along his chapped, broken lips then pushed it up and between them. At first I thought he meant to lick the blood from my nails, but he began running my finger up and against his gums. My fingernail caught on his gum and he sharply inhaled. I pulled back, fearing I had hurt him, but the grasp on my wrist tightened and held firm.

He pushed the tip of my fingernail up against his tooth and slid it up wards, like I was pointing to the back of his head. It slid against the place where the gum and tooth met. He pushed my finger upwards and I worked the gum away from the tooth.

The gum was tight and I had long nails, I was scared of hurting him. He made noises like a small beast. I pushed my finger further into him, too fast, and made his gum split and I could feel the saliva blood run down my arm. I was scared and again tried to pull away, but he held my hand firmly at the wrist. I began to cry, fearing I had hurt him, but he pushed my finger further under his gum. His tooth felt like the end of my fingers feel after bathing.

I turned my finger, so as to make a better angle, now it was as though I was pointing skyward. I pushed myself further into him so I could go no further, the whole first node of my finger was under his skin. He pulled gently against my finger, making the small split slightly worse. His breathing was laboured, occasionally he coughed a bit, his breath catching on his spit. I wept noiselessly, pulling at my finger part for his sake, part for wanting it back.

I felt the light rise and his grip on my wrist lessen. It was as though someone was lifting the cloak after a game of hide and seek."