Brock's Band-Aid

He pointed out the pain he’d
caused himself
and the dangers of
absent mindedly picking
at those blasted
hangnails.

“That had to hurt,” I said.

“Yeah, I just pulled too much

and it ripped right across the
thumbnail and all I could do was put this
Band-Aid on. You never realize
how much you miss touching
things with your thumb until it’s
covered up. I’ve dropped so
many things today already,” said Brock.

“I imagine so,” I said.

The conversation turned to

how we all inevitably end up
mysteriously cutting ourselves
while performing even the most
mundane tasks.

“How the hell did I do that?”

We all ask ourselves after discovering
the long scratch on our forearms after
changing a light bulb or taking the
garbage out.

Brock and I, talking about our

mysterious cuts, in the din of a
growing bar crowd. A cold Spring
wind blustering outside.

“Wanna grab a smoke,” asked Brock.

“I do, I do,” I said.