A World of Hurt
by Jack Swenson
Cat fight. I rush outside and swinging my trusty broom I charge the rolling yowling ball of black fur. The deck is slick with rainwater. Suddenly I am airborne. I land flat on my back. I roll over and see to my horror that the middle finger of my right hand is pumping blood like a Saudi oil well.
My wife stands by laughing her head off. Then she sees the blood and she starts to cry. She takes me into the house and patches me up. She's a nurse and she knows how to do these things.
After she's through applying the compression bandage, I go outside and visit the scene of the crime. The deck is greasy from days and days of El Nino rains. The cats are nowhere to be seen. The bloody broom is lying there, the picture of innocence. I must have squished my finger beneath it when I fell.
I go back in the house and do a damage assessment. My finger doesn't hurt. My tailbone does. So does my pride.
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Author's Note
Yes, she stood there and laughed at me. And they say men are beasts....
When we were young actors in college, we'd all stand around after our hearts were broken and say to each other, "I can use that."
That's the alchemy writers discovered--turning pain into art.
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Good writing, need I say!
Funny you should mention taking a broom to fighting cats. I recently has a similar experience on my backyard patio, without the fall and injury.
Jack, the phrase is "all men are dogs" and it is true. However, I seem to have a thing for wounded animals. fave
Yes.
Men may be beasts but women have their moments ...
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Your work often makes me smile,Jack. Tis good, we need smiles! Fav
Danm! I felt this one.
The moment-to-moment here works well for this story that is so real you can see it unfolding.
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