At first, the heart did nothing. It pushed against my skin, making horrible squelching sounds, and I began to worry I had miscalculated, that possibly it had been twenty years and not nineteen and eight months…but then it all happened. My chest burned like a fire was erupting when the smallest crack appeared in my skin, no bigger than a quarter. The heart in my hands moved to the opening and slid in, looking like a deflated balloon, until it was completely inside my chest. The fissure sealed up with a pop, and I felt my chest fill as I gulped for breath. It was finished. I had done it. “How do
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