Lindsay barely escaped the ghastly clutches of death when he received a splinter the size of Montana in his finger. The immense sangrine river flowed in double beats from his finger; each pulse we were sure was his last. He lay meekly on the bed, the paleness of his escaping lifeforce tinting his skin yellow. When, suddenly, a savior emerged from the dark. The Mighty Dawson, with her double-edged sword, thrust deeply into the heart of the wound with infallible precision. The splinter conceded, and fell by her silver blade.
When all was said and bandaged, we took the oversized bi-focal magnifying glass back to CVS, and the day (and $8) was saved!
3 comments:
(oops, spelled your name wrong)
Hey Jamiella,
looks like you're having a grand old time (in France, right? or...right?). Thanks for the suggestions. I tried to incorporate the situation a little at the end of the second installment, but I felt bad because I was putting it in Summer instead and after the bus ride not before. I'm also trying to get the right feel for Boston. Hope I'm not butchering it.
Um. If you get a chance, I was wondering if you could answer a question for me. I'm trying to see who's leaving some of those comments, but their profiles aren't accessible. Is there still a way I can see their blogs? Or is that just the way the system's set up? (sigh).
Anyway, thanks again! Hope you're well!
Ouch! Splinters are the worst and men can kind of be big babies when it comes to taking them out. Good to see all ended well! :)
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