The touch of a chain

Bright dots watch, attentive.

Butterflies listen

in a continuous movement

here and there and here again.

 

The sky sings bright in the night darkness

and the melody

bathes the water

and washes away the pain.

 

The air smells like happiness

mantling everything on its way

and in a sweet embrace

releases the touch of a chain.

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A lingering butt

Edith woke up with a lingering pain in her butt. It was the fourth day in a row she felt something on that spot. She had tried a few different tricks she learned from her mother that always worked miraculously when she was growing up.

At first, she thought it was a mosquito bite and just tried not to scratch it. The following day it seemed to be bigger with a noticeable hole in the middle and she did the obvious keep-it-clean plus Band-Aid. No luck. When she woke up once more to find it even worse and after spending the whole morning going through some drawers, she finally found and used the old MMM: mommy mystery medicine.

But with Edith’s luck, of course by the end of the day the one cheek of her butt was twice the size of the healthy one and all around the now even larger hole, it was almost black. In a very desperate doctors visit she learned the infection was on the verge of giving her tetanus, but treatment would take only a week since it was caught early.

Now lying in bed, still half asleep and with a lingering butt, she remembered the cause of the wound: she had sat on an old nail that fell from the wall onto the couch.