A Morning Paper Cut

 

     So this morning, I was opening a can of dog food when I accidentally cut my finger with it. Used to being cut or scratched, I ignored it and just continued preparing the dog food, until I noticed there’s blood all over the table. I looked at my wound and saw that the little cut I had on my finger was bleeding profusely, like really scary profusely.

     I wiped the wound with a tissue but it continued bleeding copiously, and I wondered how a cut that small could bleed so much. Maybe, I had been bleeding inside for so long, tortured by life and love, my insides slashed by other people’s indifference, and my blood just overflowed outside when presented an exit, relieved that that it had escaped the suffering inside me. I washed my wound on the sink, and Jesus, the sink was almost covered with blood, my wound almost squirting blood. I would glance behind every now and then while I cleaned it, scared that a horde of vampires was already on their way to attack me and lick my blood.

     Finally, I got hold of an orange bandage and hurriedly wrapped it around the cut, and it was only then the bleeding stopped. Then, as I tried to shake lightheadedness, I thought I saw a bat flying just outside our window, its wings fluttering slowly, disappointedly and melancholily.