Night Blade
Dennis Flaxstein opened his 60 year old eyes, then he smelled it. It being the stench of his losing another body part. “No, no, no” he cried. He tossed the sheet aside and screamed.
“Nurse! Help me. Nurse!”
Helen Aweida, daytime nurse at the Lewis Rehabilitation Clinic, lumbered into the room. “I’m here Mr. Flaxstein, you can quit bawling. What is it now?”
Dennis lifted his right leg. The leg ended at his ankle. There was no foot. “They took my foot last night!” His head fell back on the pillow, tears running down his face. “They took my foot” he whimpered.
“Are you sure you had a foot, Mr. Flaxstein?” Nurse Aweida bent over the missing foot. It was cleanly severed, and the stump smeared with a foul smelling salve.
“Hell yes! I had all my body parts when they locked me in this loony bin. Then my toes dissapeared one by one, and now my foot.”
Behind nurse Aweida, peering into the room, was Bernie Winstanly a patient from across the hall. “Is Dennis ok?” he asked the nurse.