Lipless

Geraldine knew she didn’t need her lips anymore. She did not care to eat and had no one to talk to, or to kiss. She decided to cut them off.

A pair of kitchen scissors would’ve sufficed, but for hygiene reasons, she settled for a disposable razor—it would be more efficient.

In one go, she sliced each lip clean off the curve of her face. Being lipless was more streamlined, she decided. Carefully, she wrapped each lip in lilac tissue paper, which she scented with her favourite oil, dabbing it delicately against the crinkled paper, careful not to over-wet the tissue in case it tore.

She placed the wrapped appendages in a box and ribboned the top. To be delivered to the nearest hospital. She addressed the box: to someone who needs these more than I.