Overheard today, as I walked through my neighborhood --
WOMAN, standing in the shadows of her front porch, speaking to two other people: I didn't stab at him with a *knife.* I stabbed at him with the *holder* of the knife.
Well, okay then! Much better! [/wide eyes]
Which thought led me to a drabble, just a little change-up on the theme...
Sirens, lights, blood on her fingers...
It hadn't been a knife when Janey'd picked it up. It was just her emery board - not much good against Pete when he was drunk, of course, but she'd been so blind-stupid scared.
When her fingertip had touched its rough surface, though, words had come from a deep well. The well at Grandma June's farm. The well Grandma June sang over, every full moon.
“Give me what I need,” Janey had cried out, and rough became smooth, became sharp.
Sirens, lights, blood on her fingers, metal cold as well-water against her palm.
........................
May you only overhear good things today!