I am Heydon’s useless biological souvenir.
I once had dreams. Big ones. Digestive ones. But somewhere between cavemen and McDonalds, I lost my purpose.
Now? I’m a fleshy paperweight. A pink little time bomb.
A ticking gland with abandonment issues.
Every other organ got a glow-up.
Liver? Party tank.
Heart? Symbol of love, tragedy, and overpriced Valentine’s merch.
Brain? Thinks it’s the main character.
And me? (Continued)