Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Bucket

The skin on my leg where it's being irradiated has finally started to blister and redden, as they said it would; the machine whines like an enormous mosquito and my leg shivers lightly, like a horse trying to shake the biters from his hide.

When it's done, Dee Dee comes in and turns on the light and, after a little bit of chit-chat about her long day, apologizes for complaining.

"Yeah, I'm kinda grumpy too," I admit.

She doesn't believe me, but I tell her, "Well, when I'm carrying around a bucket of shit, I feel like it's my job not to splash on anybody."
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One year ago today: Directions
Two years ago today: A Possibly Plagiarized Dimensional Theory of Literature
Six years ago today: 10-5-10 Many Changes Make for Renewal

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