Birth of a Clone
I woke up the morning that this particular client appeared at my door with a peculiar feeling in my chest. Like something inside needed out, urgently. I could feel it, expectant, with its hands gripping my ribs like they were cell bars. Ready to shake my bones to shards and slash its way out. I took a deep, slow breath and swung my legs out of the bed. This meant something, more likely someone, was coming. And they needed this thing inside me.
I needed coffee.
I let the dogs out and started the kettle, then padded to the bathroom. The thing in my chest was looking through me and out. I saw through its eyes. A man up early, working on something mechanical. Metal glinted hungrily on his table, waiting to be fed cables hot with electricity. He brought things to life, this man. But he himself was tired. He had too many metal mouths to feed. Too little time to caress them all into buzzing, ozone burning life. Alarms rang. The man grabbed a briefcase and ran out of the room. Busy busy.
Spit.
The thing started up my chest. It had shown me all it needed to. I felt the slick lump of its body pushing against my trachea as it clawed its way up my throat. Not even enough space to gag. No air getting through. Suffocating, my mouth opened too wide. Pain shot through my jaws and the corners of my mouth began to split. Then I could feel it’s little hands digging into my tongue, back feet still scrambling up my throat. I watched in the mirror, my eyes watering, as its little head emerged. Nearly bald, a wispy combover, the blue eyes of the man I’d seen with the metal and cables. A tiny version of him, naked, covered in goo and blood. I pulled him out of my mouth with a towel, gagging a little as his feet kicked the back of my throat, and put him in the tub. One of the cats perched on the edge, watching hungrily. Waiting for my word.
I had to brush my teeth before any of this could be dealt with. It’s not the first time I’d birthed a clone this way, but that doesn’t mean it got any better. My throat hurt, my chest hurt. It’s hard to get the taste of clone out of your mouth.
Coffee would help.