Friday, May 10, 2013


Seen on the Purple Line to Linden at about 8:45 a.m.

“When a rock hits your head, it feels kinda good. Hurts at first, but then everything starts to swirl together, and you notice all the colors in the world, like you’ve never seen them before. Everything gets soft and pretty and warm.”

That’s what Shawn told the doctors twenty years ago today, right before they stitched him up. The scars are all he has to remind him of what his father did that day, and how things got better afterwards. He likes to run his hands over the scars, feel the bumps that mark the last time he was afraid.

Another little drabble today. I really need to stop writing about people's scars. Going to the burbs for Mother's Day this weekend. Remember to call your mom! 

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