Licensing Flesh: a Freeborn short

By D Secrest

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--This advertisement was paid for by the United States Reproductive Bureau.

• Language: English
• Publisher: D Secrest
• Release date: Apr 18, 2021

Book preview

Licensing Flesh

a Freeborn short

By D. Secrest

The room was nearly dark but for a single swinging light hanging above a metal desk in the middle of the ceiling. The walls were off-white, plain and unadorned, while the floor was simple concrete. A man and a woman, husband and wife, sitting in the simple, unadorned room, had been listening to the slow creak of the swinging light above their heads for hours now, and both were ready to pull their hair out as they watched the circle of light rotate around them on the floor. Neither knew for sure how long they’d been made to wait; neither had their matching Timex watches on their wrists when they were taken in the middle of the night, as they were left on their own respective night stands, but the woman guessed it’d been at least two hours, possibly three based on the sound of her stomach growling angrily. She should be making breakfast right now, the woman thought absently, looking over at her husband who looked fit to blow; he always had two strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, a piece of toast and a glass of orange juice. Every day, for the past ten years since they’d been married, she’d gotten up at the same time every morning and went through the same routine that she didn’t even need an alarm clock anymore.

Slamming his fist down on the table, the man sat up straight and cursed, looking over at his wife accusingly. What did you do?

Me?

Yes, you Victoria! What the fuck did you do to get us tossed in here? he shouted, spittle striking his wife’s face.

Scoffing, Victoria looked at her husband in disbelief and then retorted, I’m not the one with the gambling problem, Bill, with a slight smile on her face.

Bill pushed back in his chair, tipping it over, and stood up angrily. How many times you gotta throw that in my face, huh? How many fucking times! Pacing around the room, Bill refused to look at Victoria as he muttered to himself.

Sighing, Victoria knew she’d pushed him too far. With exhaustion setting in for both of them, she knew it would be dangerous to aggravate him any further. After being shoved into the room they now found themselves in, they’d spent over a hour trying to reconstruct the events of the night in hope that one of them saw or heard something that might give them a clue to why they were here and where they were. Both agreed that they were still in Portland, Oregon, their hometown: even with black hoods that had been placed over their heads, the car ride had been quite short. Bill, at one point, had sworn up and down he’d heard a boat horn and felt the breaks in the concrete one would feel going over a bridge leading Victoria to believe they’d crossed the Willamette into downtown. Once they’d parked and been pulled from the car, Victoria had remembered someone playing a violin on the street—perhaps a panhandler—and Bill remembered seeing a street musician on his way to work the other day near the Pink Building in downtown, the old Bancorp Tower. Both agreed that the elevator ride had been long, several stories so the Pink Building was definitely a possibility since it was 42 stories tall.

Still, with possibly knowing where they were, they still didn’t know the why. Had it been a setup, Victoria had wondered out loud—was this revenge for something one of them had done to someone in their past? A prank? Bill swore up and down he’d kept to the straight and narrow since his gambling days; he’d certainly had close calls during those times with some shady individuals. Victoria had been forced to agree that he led a pretty boring life compared to before, so she believed him when he said he couldn’t think of anyone that would fabricate a story just to get him arrested let, alone both of them.

Bill hammered on the door, screaming at it as Victoria covered her ears; the resounding echo in the small room hurt them. When is someone going to fucking come in and tell us something! Slamming his fist on the door again, he screamed his questions at the door until his voice was hoarse.

Finally sitting back down again, Bill crossed his arms and refused to look at Victoria. She knew she’d have to be the one to extend the olive branch. "So let’s