The Treatment
Coleman Bomar
Dear Margaret,
I know written letters are beyond impractical, but what I have to say deserves some physicality. After months of treatment, my brain no longer produces dopamine at the sight of your red smile. The operations were effective experiences. They shocked my neurons one at a time until I subconsciously associated your voluptuous figure with an absolute terror of pain, and trust me when I say it was worth every scream. Honestly, what was I thinking? What were we thinking? I never noticed before, but the thought of you is truly ugly, objectively ugly, and I say all this without hard feelings. I know I was furious when I loved you. The thought of that… Mark, yes, objectively admittedly handsome Mark expanding your corneas was too much for a standard brain to handle. Just the imagining would have broken me if those rosy rims weren’t shocked off my face so soon, and now I am at a certain peace I haven’t felt in years. Thank you for suggesting this technological medicinal torture lovingly paid for by the left-over pots, pans and gifts of fine china. Seriously. I wish you and Mark a lovely lovey dovey love filled future.
Sincerely,
A fixed man
Boy, folks will go to great lengths to get over someone, won’t they? Lol.