[for Lexie]
Pain blossoms across my forehead and blood runs thick and sticky down my skin. Times like these, I do have to wonder: what am I doing with my life? If the same injury came from a fight, I might be able to forgive myself the mistake (though even then, it's unlikely -- I am something of a perfectionist). But that it came instead from something as simple as maintaining my hut -- the one that rests in the middle of a jungle -- gives me pause.
I shouldn't have ever slipped from the roof; for God's sake, I used to fly across the New York skyline as though it were my own personal playground. Yet home improvement presents its own unique set of challenges, or so I've just learned. I recovered in time to prevent a concussion and a few broken bones, but not quickly enough to spare myself this particular indignity.
A lesson learned, I suppose, against do it yourself projects. The next time I feel a draft, I'll be sure to call someone else up to do the duties. My job description at home was more complicated than most, but I suppose it didn't include carpenter for a reason.
Hissing as I prod at the cut resting on the edge of my hairline, fingers coming away warm and wet, I grimace as I tip my face towards the heat of the sun. It's deep enough to warrant stitches, and while I have a few limited supplies inside, this is a task better left to a professional.
It's just a matter of finding one on short notice.
I shouldn't have ever slipped from the roof; for God's sake, I used to fly across the New York skyline as though it were my own personal playground. Yet home improvement presents its own unique set of challenges, or so I've just learned. I recovered in time to prevent a concussion and a few broken bones, but not quickly enough to spare myself this particular indignity.
A lesson learned, I suppose, against do it yourself projects. The next time I feel a draft, I'll be sure to call someone else up to do the duties. My job description at home was more complicated than most, but I suppose it didn't include carpenter for a reason.
Hissing as I prod at the cut resting on the edge of my hairline, fingers coming away warm and wet, I grimace as I tip my face towards the heat of the sun. It's deep enough to warrant stitches, and while I have a few limited supplies inside, this is a task better left to a professional.
It's just a matter of finding one on short notice.