Sunday, 17 January 2010


I stared down at my foot.

A blunt, dry twig had pierced through the skin at the top and now poked out the other side. Bright blood had risen and pooled around its girth where the skin had split. It looked like it should've hurt but it didn't.

I bent down and loosed the offender till it came free, a fascinatingly exact circular hole in its place. The torn film of skin had dissolved in the sanguine mess.

I stood back up to find A's horrified expression: "Are you..." she gulped, "...okay?"

"Yes, are YOU?" I spat back, slightly shocked at myself. Her wet eyes had irritated me more than they should have.

"We've got to get you to a doctor," she continued shakily, completely missing me. "This could turn septic."

"Just ask this guy where we'll find one," I told her, nodding towards the bored looking cashier of the chemist in front of us.

She hurried off and I turned around, hailed a taxi and left.

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