This is an opening I did as a writing exercise - thinking of extending it at some stage. |
I didn’t realise there would be so much blood. It had splattered over the counter and was dripping down the edges of the sink. I looked over to the towel rack and grimaced. I had my good white fluffy towels, and everybody knows that blood stains. But I couldn’t leave it there to dry and coagulate along the tiles. I’d never want to be in the room again and I couldn’t afford to do that – it’s the only bathroom in the apartment. And typically it would happen twenty minutes before the Date That Would Change My Life. I could picture it; he would walk in and need to use the bathroom. The movie of my life would cut to his horrified expression as he’d open the laundry hamper – why he does that I’m still not sure – and then he would see the bloodstained towels. He’d contemplate searching for the body, but instead run screaming from the building, directly to the local police (do not pass go, do not collect $200). Who would have thought that cutting your leg shaving could produce so much blood? And where are those bloody band-aids? I almost emptied the bathroom cabinet before I found them hiding in terror behind the nail polish remover. Never should have gotten the Mickey Mouse ones. Too chicken for my needs. And plus, I had been planning on wearing that sexy black skirt that cost me the earth plus the moon, even on sale from Alannah Hill, and a Mickey band-aid hardly completed the outfit. While I stood at the sink contemplating my outfit, the blood continued trickling down my leg. Has anyone ever died from blood loss through shaving? “Damn it!” I muttered,as I introduced Mickey to Alannah. There was no time to change the skirt, because that would mean an entire outfit change and this one had taken me all afternoon to put together. This date better be worth it. |