That One Part She Couldn’t Be Without

If you looked into Jennifer’s heart you would find nothing special. It’s a pump and the liver is a filter. There is no epiphany to be found in her organs. I suspect that if you could read the signals in her nerves you might find a hint of her but it’s nothing more than an echo down a stairwell. Ultimately my actions are fruitless. All the parts I know of are here but nothing totals to more than the grand sum.

Her pale ginger body sits on my table with her flesh pinned back. Around us, her organs are measured, each in their own scale. I’m looking for a very small piece, less than 21 grams .I don’t know it’s function, but I know that if she doesn’t have it she is no longer her. So I keep digging, I keep looking.

This is hopeless, I can’t even bring myself to say what I’m looking for. If I can’t find it I’ll never have her back. I can reconnect the wires, I can find her a new neck, but try as I might I can’t make that one special part. She is gone and even with all of my skills, I can’t bring her back. Still, one can’t be wasteful.

This new thing, I shall place in a sturdier structure with plastic, titanium and shock absorbers. This one won’t meet her end in a shower. She’ll be surefooted and downright graceful. In time, I’m sure that special part will be replaced by some natural process that alludes me.

What shall I call this child of mine?

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