The sloping hole (extract from chapter 4)

At home I tighten the tourniquet around my arm. My median cubital vein is always visible which makes blood tests easy. What I like about needles and syringes are the sloping holes; they look menacing and remind me of Dad’s bamboo stick sword.

He used to keep it in the living room as decoration. One day when I was very young I drew the sword from its sheath to survey the carbon steel blade. I remember feeling vehemently attracted to the tip of the sword and like Princess Helen, I pricked my finger on the spindle; except I didn’t die, instead I had an epiphany. I knew then what that sting in later years would feel like. It gave me a rough idea of what love might be, too. I was prepared for the pain as well as for the blood.


by Paula Deckard (c) 2007-2016

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