My fingernails stopped growing about six months ago.
I can’t tell you exactly when it happened. I never used to cut my nails on any given schedule, just when I realized they needed clipping. It must have been weeks before I even thought about it.
I know I shrugged it off the first few times I noticed. It’s not like I enjoyed or even cared about trimming my nails. I’d give them a look, think “that’s weird,” and then go about my business.
But not any more. Now I’m reminded of it every time I shake someone’s hand, type an e-mail, touch something. Anything.
I haven’t been to see a doctor yet. I mean, it’s just my damn nails, right? But still, I’ve been drinking a lot of milk these days. Taking a calcium supplement, too, hoping to kick-start something.
No luck yet.
I saw something on TV the other day, a show about mummies, that said your hair and nails keep growing for weeks after you die.
I woke up this morning and didn’t need a shave. My cheeks are still bare and smooth, like they were yesterday morning.
I’m starting to think I should be worried.
—
© 2009 John R. Platt
John R. Platt’s most recent stories appear in the anthologies DARK TERRITORIES and MONSTROUS. Visit him online at http://www.johnrplatt.com
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Tags: John R. Platt
February 4th, 2009 at 5:55 am
When I was in college, John Platt was the editor of a well-remembered ‘zine called White Knuckles. John was the first editor to ever take the time to personally reject one of my stories and give me some well-thought out advice instead of a standard form letter. John was nice enough to write this story especially for FitD, so THANKS JOHN!
February 4th, 2009 at 6:48 am
I loved this story! I’m partial to really short, powerful tales like this. Wonderful!
February 4th, 2009 at 10:34 am
This is a good one.
February 4th, 2009 at 11:46 am
I second (third? fourth?) the praise for this one. So deceptively simple, but powerful. Creeped me out but good.