Microfiction Day 344 – ‘Say Cheese’

He liked to collect smiles.

Not through jokes or laughter. They sometimes felt too forced, sometimes felt too close to a twisted grimace. He preferred to create them from their constituent parts.

He had jars of teeth from people who had been too squeamish to keep them. Retainers that had been outgrown. The crumpled wires of braces.

He would design a new smile from mismatched teeth, finding beauty in their jagged crookedness. Placed them on his shelves like ornaments.

He was a popular dentist. Gentle in his approach, his eyes always smiling above the mask that hid his mouth.


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