Escape Pod 832: Mouthfeel
Mouthfeel
by Phoenix Alexander
2050
After she left him, he found cells of hers between my bristles; grew a new her.
But she wasn’t the same. Of course there were the same teeth, in the same position, and the same size: molars, premolars, cuspids, incisors, all arrayed as they should be. But there wasn’t the familiar intimacy in my husking over them, mint-foamed, before she rinsed her mouth to make it clean and clear to kiss him. Thrown down onto the sink—the old her always put me neatly back in the slotted cup holder—I would see his eyes, because he faced me as he kissed her, before leading her to the bedroom, and I knew he knew she wasn’t the same, either.
Not that he should have misused his scientific equipment, on loan from the university, to create an adult human.
