Part 2 of 6 by Madam Z

Sometimes I wonder if it could be my soul; the size would be about right. And if you’re wondering how I could know how big a soul would be, it’s from when I was a little kid, about seven or eight years old, and I went to a neighborhood church for a while, where they were always talking about “souls” and how the church could save our souls. I couldn’t figure out where or what my soul was, but saving it seemed like a good idea, since it must be pretty important or the preacher wouldn’t be talking about it all the time. Then one day when Mom was cleaning out a chicken, I saw her remove the gizzard, and I thought, Yeah, that must be what a soul looks like. So I was satisfied then, because I had a picture of my soul in my mind - it looked like a chicken gizzard and it resided right behind my bellybutton, in my abdomen. I continued to believe that for a few years and felt kind of sad when an anatomy class cast doubt on my theory.


Madam Z finds her padded cell quite comfortable, thank you. (Look for Part 3 of Headroom on Friday, May 11th.)


Madame Goodrich said...

I always was a bit disappointed when the thin veil of naivety was sliced through with the harsh burn of reality.

This was a GREAT piece. Can't wait for 3....

Harry said...

Madam Z,

You go to Sister Peewee's Soul Food Kitchen and order up some fried chicken gizzards with collards and cornbread and you'll slap your old anatomy teacher. Lookin' forward to another heapin' helping from you!

madam z said...

Omigod, Harry! I was right! Now that pulsing has started up again, and it's right behind my bellybutton, where it belongs. Hallelujah! Pass the cornbread! You' the SOULMAN!