Warning! A gross photo accompanies this post.
My husband John was just about to describe to me a moving piano piece that he had rediscovered among his old music books. But first, he decided to make a big sweeping gesture with his arm. His arm hit a drinking glass that was poised on the edge of the kitchen counter, and he tried to grab the glass before it fell to the floor and shattered, but it had already shattered on the counter. It proceeded to slice his index finger. Blood and sticky apple juice flew all over the kitchen.
The doctor at the emergency room first said that he may not need any stitches. Or maybe two would do. Two became four, then somehow just one more, and it would be perfect.
We were all rather impressed with the results. Gruesome, for sure, but undeniably artful. If tattoos are now as “mainstream” as the media say they are, then we might be onto an emerging trend in body modification. But then again, maybe not.