The pain shoots through my hand as I jerk it
out from the small space under the seat. A small bubble of blood forms on the
finger tip as I lean forward for a closer look. I push it into the dark carpet
and re-examine as the bubble slowly returns. I spot an old rag on the bench and
quickly retrieve it. With the finger pressed into the fabric, I examine the
remains of past projects scattered across the area.
The red flashlight catches my eye; I grab it and turn to rest against the bench. Light shoots from the end of the metal tube as the switch is pushed forward. A small amount of blood appears on the finger as the light provides a better view. My mind examines the letters on the rag like a puzzle when the phrase "MRA Football" finally appears. I feel like a Wheel of Fortune contestant as I digest the phrase and smile while recalling his long touchdown run. The rag returns to the bench as I wipe the finger and drop the rag in one motion while returning to the scene of the crime.
I lean forward to peer under the seat but the light is no longer handy. While steadying myself on my haunches, I peer into the light while repeatedly sliding the switch and slapping the metal housing with my other hand. I nearly drop it as the light suddenly shoots into my eyes. I turn it away from my face and sit patiently as my vision slowly returns.
I wipe another small amount of blood on the carpet while leaning forward. The hidden area under the seat is no longer a mystery as the darkness explodes in light. The space is surprisingly clean and empty, but a sparkle from a far corner catches my eye just as I am ready to give up. A pen from the nearby console provides the tool to extract the gem from its hiding spot.
The object's sparkle quickly fades when it reaches the floorboard and daylight. I immediately recognize it as the painful memories flood my mind. It was a tumultuous time when the window was mysteriously smashed one evening - the culprit was never discovered, but it no longer matters. I fall into the seat and gently roll the small piece of glass in my open palm - it reminds me of a handheld game where a small metal ball must be maneuvered into a specific hole.
The cut on my finger gently throbs along with the other pain as I watch the small piece of glass tumble across my skin. The relationship ended around the same time as this piece of glass's original form. There was a lot of speculation, but I just wanted it to disappear along with everything else. It isn't the first piece of glass I have encountered, but each time I hope it is the last.
The knees pop as I stand and slowly walk to the garbage can. My hand tilts and the sparkle falls with a small knock echoing as it hits the metal container. As I watch it fall, I wonder if I will ever be free.
The red flashlight catches my eye; I grab it and turn to rest against the bench. Light shoots from the end of the metal tube as the switch is pushed forward. A small amount of blood appears on the finger as the light provides a better view. My mind examines the letters on the rag like a puzzle when the phrase "MRA Football" finally appears. I feel like a Wheel of Fortune contestant as I digest the phrase and smile while recalling his long touchdown run. The rag returns to the bench as I wipe the finger and drop the rag in one motion while returning to the scene of the crime.
I lean forward to peer under the seat but the light is no longer handy. While steadying myself on my haunches, I peer into the light while repeatedly sliding the switch and slapping the metal housing with my other hand. I nearly drop it as the light suddenly shoots into my eyes. I turn it away from my face and sit patiently as my vision slowly returns.
I wipe another small amount of blood on the carpet while leaning forward. The hidden area under the seat is no longer a mystery as the darkness explodes in light. The space is surprisingly clean and empty, but a sparkle from a far corner catches my eye just as I am ready to give up. A pen from the nearby console provides the tool to extract the gem from its hiding spot.
The object's sparkle quickly fades when it reaches the floorboard and daylight. I immediately recognize it as the painful memories flood my mind. It was a tumultuous time when the window was mysteriously smashed one evening - the culprit was never discovered, but it no longer matters. I fall into the seat and gently roll the small piece of glass in my open palm - it reminds me of a handheld game where a small metal ball must be maneuvered into a specific hole.
The cut on my finger gently throbs along with the other pain as I watch the small piece of glass tumble across my skin. The relationship ended around the same time as this piece of glass's original form. There was a lot of speculation, but I just wanted it to disappear along with everything else. It isn't the first piece of glass I have encountered, but each time I hope it is the last.
The knees pop as I stand and slowly walk to the garbage can. My hand tilts and the sparkle falls with a small knock echoing as it hits the metal container. As I watch it fall, I wonder if I will ever be free.
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