scraped raze curved keratin scraped the skin beneath matrix and mantle, digging into the first digit on my dominant hand so swiftly i failed to feel anything at all. the pain, such as it was, only arrived after the fact, when i noticed a thin red line erect above the creases lying supine. carve a living metaphor from my mouldering meat to illustrate the state of me, and this is what you'd see — a wiry wound where flawless flesh should be. 251217 what's it to you? who go blather from