It wasn't the worst thing I'd ever done, but there sure was a lot of blood. More than I'd expected. It made me feel a little guilty... all that blood. Mom would have been going off her gourd... such a mess. She was always quite strict about messes, scrubbing away at the floor far into the night after dad would come home drunk. Didn't matter if it was puke or her own blood; it must be scrubbed. Least dad wouldn't be making any more messes, and she was long past cleaning them up anyway since her little accident on the stairs. Everyone knew he did it, but no one said anything. Damn hypocrits... just cause he was on the force.
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Pennsylvania
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Re: The things we must do
Tue, May 10, 2005 - 1:16 PMI looked under the sink for one of those little orange miracle sponges. God i love those. They absorb like nobodie's business, and believe me, this was nobodie's business. No bodies business...ha! that sounded like one of dad's bad cop jokes. That stuff runs in families, in the blood...or maybe the genes. I wet the sponge and headed for the stairs, ready to sop up the O-neg. Only when I got there I saw that things were going to be a little more complicated than I'd hoped.
