Thursday, August 25, 2011
From "Butterfly Powder and the Mountains of Iowa" by Erich Eipert
Before I knew it, she'd plunged it into my bad arm. Well, I thought it was my arm at the time. Actually, what she did was jab it into the fabric part of the cast to cut the two sections apart. Underneath, the patches of dead brown skin looked positively cancerous, but there was no new swelling and only a slight tenderness. "Better see Doc in the morning," she advised as she knotted two dishtowels together for a sling.