Category: The Fingertips Project

A series of short pieces of fiction, each based on one of the segments of “Fingertips” by They Might Be Giants from Apollo 18.

The Fingertips Project: Heart Attack

Oh, how are you doing today? I’m OK, can’t really complain. Seem to be having a minor myocardial infarction — nothing too big. My left arm has gone numb, but that’s OK. Nothing too awfully bad — I’m right handed anyway. Hey, I can’t feel how my watchband pinches so that works out, am I right? My chest feels a little tight, but it could just be my sweater — I think it’s shrunk a little in the wash, or at least that’s what I tell my wife, heh heh. Having a little bit of a difficult time breathing, too — heh, breathin’ hard or hardly breathin’? But you know, just listen to me, a bundle of complaints, how are you doing?
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The Fingertips Project: The Day That Love Came To Play

The beautiful, shimmering woman introduced herself as Eros; we welcomed her — our town was always friendly, and there’s something about beauty that makes people a whole lot more amenable to new folks. She said something about it being her day off and that she decided to visit our town and see what was up here. Being right good neighbors, or at least that was how we liked to think of ourselves, we told her we’d show her the sights and let her see the way around and introduce her to our way of life. It’s simple, but it’s ours, and it works for us pretty well.

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The Fingertips Project: Mysterious Whisper

[REDACTED] – The citizens of [REDACTED] have disappeared. The disappearances began last [REDACTED], slowly at first, with a few of the more outlying and reclusive residents going missing at first. Soon, however, the disappearances seemed to focus around a certain family, the [REDACTED]. Continue reading →

The Fingertips Project: I Don't Understand You

have
I
to
because
an
that
die;
heh,
I
ABOUT
or
IT’S
haven’t

that

it’s
“sure
acquaintances.
all

people
of
That’s
rid
I
I’m
ask
one
what
don’t
guy’s

like
the
begin
still
before,
or
to
what
even
I
but,
of
culprit,
a
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The Fingertips Project: Something Grabbed Ahold of My Hand

I don’t know what it was. It was just an empty grasp and yet it grabbed me and held on tight and would not let go no matter what I did or how I screamed or shrieked. It held on tighter and tighter and it began to hurt and I swear I could even see indentations where fingernails were digging into the flesh and causing blood to begin to seep through the broken skin around imprints of heavy pressure, but there was nothing there to cause it. Continue reading →

The Fingertips Project: All Alone

I suppose I should have figured this is what it’d be like. There’s even a Twilight Zone about it with the guy who’s the last guy on earth and he wants to read but then his glasses break. Luckily, I don’t have glasses, but the payoff is emotionally the same. I don’t even really know why, since I typically don’t — or, rather, didn’t — like people nor have any close friends or even acquaintances. Continue reading →