It had been there all morning. All day, really.
Something familiar suddenly misshaped and macabre, an ominous token of misfortune and fear.
Looked like it as it was happening, too.
Do you know how much blood a body can produce – or what that looks like, for that matter?
You don’t expect it.
A slash and a gash and two seconds later there it all is.
Control changes hands, swiftly. And things play out however they play out.
What you can do, I did.
I stopped it but I didn’t win.
Wrapped the rag in a CVS bag about an hour ago and threw it in the trash.
I imagined telling someone how «it looked like a crime scene down there», but instead I told no one.
I’m sure I’ve heard that somewhere already.
This time it wasn’t funny, though.
Malas traducciones 