Saguaro Riptide
“He stared down at his left hand. Both of them. He blinked furiously. Each blink sent an angry jolt of pain through his skull, as if his eyelids were made of iron. But blinking did no good.
The illusion persisted. Two left hands. Both of them bleeding.
His stomach churned. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d cracked his head. That was all. In a moment, the dizziness would pass. And when he opened his eyes he would only have one left hand.
But it would be bleeding.
He ...couldn’t delay.
He had to do something about that.
He opened his eyes.
Thankfully, he only had one left hand.
He wasn’t going to worry that it seemed to have three extra fingers.
*** Woodrow turned on the tap in the kitchen sink. A stream of cold water rinsed the blood from his hand and stirred a brittle ache in his palm that made him momentarily sympathetic to the sufferings of Jesus Christ.MoreLess
The illusion persisted. Two left hands. Both of them bleeding.
His stomach churned. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d cracked his head. That was all. In a moment, the dizziness would pass. And when he opened his eyes he would only have one left hand.
But it would be bleeding.
He ...couldn’t delay.
He had to do something about that.
He opened his eyes.
Thankfully, he only had one left hand.
He wasn’t going to worry that it seemed to have three extra fingers.
*** Woodrow turned on the tap in the kitchen sink. A stream of cold water rinsed the blood from his hand and stirred a brittle ache in his palm that made him momentarily sympathetic to the sufferings of Jesus Christ.MoreLess
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