Kindling

Millimetres, right? There was a pause and the TV blathered in the background on the other end of the line. I knew he’d said centimetres I just couldn’t believe it and almost didn’t even when he confirmed: Nope, centimetres. Centimetres didn’t make sense. 6×3 cm was like the size of the block of cheddar I had left in the fridge or the travel sized bottle of Reactine in my backpack. I involuntarily cringed, tensed, and held my breath like I was about to have blood drawn. Holy shit. What the fuck are they going to do? I asked, laughing. The laugh was also involuntary. It came from disbelief and seemed to help make digesting the news easier. There was no way a kidney stone that large would pass on it’s own, it would split his dick like firewood. Canned laughter came from the television. Man, I don’t know, he said.