Member-only story
What Makes a Human Human
By Mary Keating
My classmates scribble
down our law professor’s words
as if he’s the second coming
Not me. I close my eyes,
relax in my wheelchair
Listen as he expands our minds to grasp
what makes a table a table
Is it the number of legs?
What about a dog?
What if the dog only has three legs?
My body tenses
as it senses
where he’s heading
Eyes wide open when he asks:
“What makes the handicapped dog different
than the real dog?”
His words slam
into my solar plexus
leaving me cold
cocked, breathless, shocked
The scribbling scribes don’t stop
Don’t pause. Don’t see
how these words diminish me
I can’t hear outside my head anymore
I don’t know if anyone answers. The bell
must have rung like it’s rung at the end
of every class. The students pack their packs,
drift away just like any other day
while I stay alone with my…
