Sanguine
Gripping the sink, head bowed, I let the blood gather on the rim of my nose, pooling for a moment, before its fleeting journey towards the basin. My gaze escorted each plump, crimson tear during the free fall, until they split on the concave surface, mingling with kin, and reluctantly seeping into the plughole. I made no attempt to stem the flow — the rhythmic patter was almost comforting, like gentle rain during the dawn, slowly easing you back into tentative sleep.
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Other stories by Hazem Tagiuri
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Great imagery, but I have no idea what this is about.
nice work.
i never had one.
knock on wood.
also- i heard that
is what u r supposed
to do. and not put
the head back. also-also-
mingling with kin. cool way to say put it. fav*
Thanks, Brian. Count yourself lucky, they're a pain. Yep, the advice is to not lean back, apparently.
I suffered for years until I was cauterised. Which wasn't much fun.
I used to see if i could cover every bit of the sink with blood. You've got to amuse yourself somehow at these moments.