Todd had always been an amazing lover, and sometimes when they were making love things got a little rowdy. Desperate bodies clambered against the moment, as if the apocalypse was nigh. In a wicked maneuver, their pretzel-twisted bodies slid from the bed and tumbled to the floor, but not before Sondra had caught her left breast on the corner of the mahogany bedside table.
Sondra had never imagined the human body could feel such pain, and while she sobbed in agony, Todd went and got her a bag of frozen peas to lay atop the quickly forming bruise.
“I am so sorry, Baby,” he hesitated in reaching out to touch her.
She stopped crying and now wore an embittered scowl. A pale blond lock fell across her forehead and over her eye. “I’m gonna have a hideous bruise,” she pouted.
Todd looked down at the bed, his features distorted with guilt. “Can I get you anything?”
“The heating pad,” she said.
He got up and went to get the heating pad for her, and she pulled away the ice bag. A wicked red welt had risen in a span about three inches across her breast and she could already see the purple web of broken blood vessels darkening beneath the skin.
What she couldn’t see was that under the skin black rivers mused with blue veins of blood that had not yet been exposed to oxygen. Inside the rivers tar-thick rivers there crawled desperate microbial beings marching against the natural flow of blood. Soldiers of death, they pressed on through the veins, straight to the command center: the brain. Once there, they would slowly take over the body’s functions one by one by devouring the glial cells and wreaking and taking their place.
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I wanna know what the maneuver was. I also want to know if I have glial cells. If I do I need to protect them.
It was wicked. DERH.
I’ll never tell…
Who the hell calls their lover, Baby? I’m calling bullshit on this story.
Todd was right. Ice is nice.