She stares at the door. So black against the white of her hand, her fingers, so delicate and tiny. So easily crushed, crunched, folded.

She whimpers and gasps, almost writhing where she stands. Her hand numb and tingly, stuck. The door opens and the crushed digit gapes at her, it would almost look normal if it wasn't for the impression cutting across the skin. She turns her hand and stares at the open wound on the other side. The skin flapping with blood rising to the surface, not quite passing the layer of tissue paper thin skin. She closes her eyes and feels her body waver a little, then she stiffens and walks the path to the drugstore. Holding the hand carefully letting all who cares to see, view the gaping wound.

She gets the antibiotic ointment, some bandages, even contemplates the acid like sting of rubbing alcohol and decides against it. She couldn't handle that right now. In the bathroom she squeezes the ointment on to the bandage and then wraps it around the finger, tricky bastard doesn't want to stay on so she wraps a second around it on the opposite side. Joy of Joys she feels better already.

She rushes to the nearest clothing store and proceeds to spend about sixty dollars on clothing, as tries on the clothing she ignores the thrill, the tingles rising up her back, the feeling of complete relaxation rolling through her veins.

Maybe that's why she didn't mind spending almost eight hundred dollars.


Yes this is how my Boxing Day Shopping began, as soon as I got to the parking lot, my finger...the car door....my pain. I didn't like it much at the time, and I teared up, but no crying was had. Although my mascara ran, apparently the mascara in my stocking stuffer was not waterproof. And if you really want to know what I bought, ask and ye shall receive...the knowledge not the items.

|| by Fae ||
11:53:00 PM |