The bullet missed all of the vital organs.
It just hadn't been the same since they'd gone.
The bullet used to play poker with the lungs every Thursday. But now Thursdays were empty.
The left kidney had a wicked sense of humour. Many was the night that the bullet and the left kidney stayed up for hours, laughing, watching TV, drinking beer, setting the world to rights.
The bullet missed the liver most of all. They had always just "clicked". They didn't spend a lot of time together, but when they did, there was a depth to their conversation that was quite incredible. When the bullet's marriage was breaking down, the liver was always on the end of the phone, willing to chat. It was never preachy. It just listened and sympathised. It would offer advice, but the liver wasn't a know-it-all or busy-body. It just wanted to help.
The bullet even missed the small intestine, even though the small intestine had been selfish and messy and perennially self-destructive.
The bullet missed them all.
Of course, there was Skype. But it wasn't the same.
***
♪ ♫ A treat! A treat!
A comedy conceit!
From the pen
of Paul!
The funniest man
of all!
The sentence was ambiguous!
The metaphors were contiguous!
He squeezed every last dro-ppppppppppppppppppppppp
Until the whole thing came to a stop ♫ ♪
***
There's a lot of joy in my life.
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