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Weekly Contest #283
The pitch-black operating room was no darker than any other. Not for me. As always, I allowed no one else inside. It hindered the Gift. I touched the large tray of instruments. I placed my hand on each one. I felt for the body. It was there, cold and breathing. I wished I could have sliced the throat right then and been done with it. But I had to push forward. There was a better way. “Play organ,” I commanded. Instantly, hypnotic music filled the room, a Frescobaldi toccata. The sound of the organ—the “organ of darkness,” N...
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