November 30, 2009

She didn’t notice the wound when it happened. It was later, when she caught a glimpse in the mirror of blood running down her arm, that she realized what had happened. She looked at it then, closer, at the depth and width of it. It stung then, a deep sting that started at the base of the gash and grew out from there.

The blood stopped soon, and the wound wept clear fluid, no matter how many bandages she applied. It kept on like that until it stopped. It kept on like that until it healed into a scar.

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