Sunday, December 5, 2010

Non-Terminating Irrational Number

"I'm sorry sir, we no longer have any technicians

that can service that model. I wish there

was more we could do for you.

You have to keep in mind that it's almost thirty

years old. If I'm not mistaken, that one

was discontinued the following year.

You might have some luck taking it down it down

to one of those repair shops in the old
town district of the city.

I hate to say that but I just can't see many places

having the parts or the know how on

how to fix those any longer."

I told her "Thanks" and picked up the small box

and started walking back to the car.

I slid in the key and unlocked the door

and sat down into the worn seat. I opened the box

and pulled out the old pump. I held it
in my right hand as my left hand began

to undo the buttons of my shirt. I touched the

wooden doors on my chest, feeling for

the latch. I flipped it over and swung

open my sternum to reveal the empty space in

my chest cavity. I began feeling for the

arterial hose so I could more easily

find the others. It took a few minutes but I got

it all connected and flipped the switch.

It jerked a bit as it took a few more

moments to begin beating at a semi-normal

pace again. They just don't make

them like they used to.



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