I have a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. That’s where it lives. The critter, if you can call it that. It burrowed into my torso, and it took up residence there. All I can see of it is its mouth, sticking out of my abdomen, and it is insatiably hungry. I feed it all the time, and all the time it wants more and more. It is especially fond of chicken bones.
I don’t know what it is, exactly, or where it came from. It crept up on me while I was napping one day, attacked me, and dug right in. I was helpless to stop it, and now I’m part of it and it a part of me.
It appears to share a symbiotic bond with me. I used to be rather sickly, coming down with every illness present in our social culture. Now, I’m hale as a horse, and I never get sick anymore. I think it has something to do with that, though I can’t 100% prove it. In return, I feed it as much as it wants. It doesn’t grow or gain weight, so far as I can tell. It just eats and eats and eats. It must have a phenomenal metabolism.
I’ve been to the doctor to have it examined. Scans have shown that it lives directly in the center of my torso. Internally, it has moved my organs to the side, so it can take up residence. It doesn’t hurt, precisely, though it does make my middle feel a little crowded.
The doctors have tried to remove it, but every time they do, I nearly code. I’ve undergone multiple surgeries, each with a different technique and approach to removing the critter. Nothing has worked. It remains firmly embedded in my body, so I’m forced to live with it.
