Partyman – Danny Swain

He didn’t really like parties, but here he was; couples sat here and there in the large living room, chatting louder than the music playing from a hidden stereo. The room was lit by a single shaded lamp and the woman was still talking to him.
“You must be a friend of Jill and Wendy.”
“I guess I must be.”
She was pretty in a way. Her nose was larger than beauty allowed but it fit her friendly features like an ornate doorknob. Her hair was tied back and was probably blonde. What was the name she gave him? Lucy? What was she talking about now?
“Do you like dogs?” she asked him, tilting her head to the left. Her left, his right.
“Dogs? I like dogs. But when you stroke their back and they turn over showing their…bits…”
“They just want their chest stroking.”
“Yeah, but, I don’t like it. I would like to stroke their chest and then gradually push my hands down on their ribs until I feel them crack a bit…”
The woman got up from her seat next to him.
“I’ve just got to go and talk to someone,” she said.
He watched her vanish from the room to where the party was probably going on in the kitchen. He considered her body. Women’s bodies were all curves. But all their curves, ass, hips, breasts, were all due to their ability to reproduce. They were functional. It was just men’s minds that made them attractive, to do with pleasure. Lies, really.
He looked around. He probably should do something quickly. He reached for his backpack from down the side of the couch and opened the top. He took out the paper parcel.
He unwrapped the brain he had taken from the morgue and put it on his lap.
Then he waited for someone to notice it.