The Finger

I had the original idea for this back at San Diego State (so 20+ years ago). Never could figure out how to turn it into a full-blown story. Many false starts. Like this one.

"Where was it?"

Jimmy shrugged. "Under my bed."

"You don't seem very, I don't know, worried. Concerned," said Vicky.

"It's just a finger. Not like I found a whole body under there."

"It's still someone's finger."

"Yeah, but it seems pretty old. Probably some numbnuts cut it off with a Sawzall."

"And just forgot about it? What if it wasn't an accident? What if that's the only part that survived?"

"Survived?" Jimmy looked amused.

"Yeah. You know. This guy gets killed and his body chopped up into little pieces. But the killer loses the guy's finger. "

"Uh huh. And just how does this lost finger end up under my bed?"

Vicky nodded towards the closed door at the end of the hall.

"What? Stan? You think my roommate did this?"

Vicky shrugged. "You don't know he didn't."

Copyright 2007, Gary Piserchio