I have a summer job at the criminal justice service and today at lunch I came back in with a plastic bag containing a towel soaked in blood. I figured I shouldn't mention it to them. Somehow I didn't think "don't worry, it's not my blood" would make it sound any better.
Also, having such an item in your office, where you're surrounded by legal people, makes a person quite paranoid.
For the worried people: it's alright. Our horse was injured and had to get a few stitches, but it seems like she's fine apart from shallow cuts and a few bruises. It did bleed alot because one cut was right over a vein, and I'm damn glad it was my sister the nurse who was in the stable when it happened, and not useless, administrative worker me.
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Sounds like the basis for a good short story to me! :)
ReplyDeleteWouldn't it just? :D
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