November 6, 2014

“Most things broke when they struck the concrete. I had lost plenty of bones that way, the calcium chipped beyond repair (although it was always repaired but not enough to make it good as new) and so I limped at times (and depending on the weather) and slept through terrible aches arching up my wrists. It didn’t matter how I positioned myself on the ground. I could roll from side to side, then back down, and it didn’t matter. The pain was there. If I waggled my wrist, my bones felt like they were split. The man cradled the broken limbs against his chest, coddling them with his body heat, and sometimes, he licked them gently to soothe the discomfort. I’m sorry I hurt you, he always said.”

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