I was disturbed, yesterday, by a swarm of rats. They kept eating off my fingers. I didn't like it because I had cut my nails a few days back. And she said she fell in love with my fingers whenever I'd cut my nails. In fact, those were the only days she would talk to me. She wouldn't recognize me without those hands.

I didn't like it when I found the rats eating my fingers. But they ate it off, anyways.

When I went to her home this morning, frightened of what I thought her reaction would be, I found her sitting on her bed - playing with a swarm of rats.

Labels: animal, fiction, finger, flash fiction, love, rat, short story, story, surreal, surrealism