Music Lover
Ernesto pressed “Play” on the stereo. Pavarotti flooded the confines of the lighted basement. Swiveling toward his tool cart, Ernesto selected a scalpel and a pair of upholstery shears.
He turned to the naked fat man on the metal gurney before him. Gagged, eyes wide with terror, the man strained against his leather bindings. His beer belly wobbled and jiggled.
Pavarotti faded into Caruso.
Ernesto sliced and snipped. Ropy coils, warm and wet, slid from their confinement, drooped toward the floor and fell free.
He stitched to Bergonzi. Amputated to Domingo. Finished with Florez.
Tomorrow he’d sever and flay to salsa.
