Wednesday 10 September 2014

At the Splinter Scene

Kira runs into a bamboo post: WHAM. Small scratch on the forearm. Arrives home, sporting said scratch. Says:

'I ran into a bamboo post.' Adds, as an afterthought:

'There may be a bamboo splinter in my arm'. Adds, firmly:

'I don't want to touch it.'

We do a little dance around her, trying to have a look at the arm. We have a casual dialogue about the importance of getting the splinter out or at least finding out more about it. We make a breezy mention of cool clinics and nice nurses. We resort, by necessity, to doom scenarios and employ serious words like 'infection', 'surgery' and 'blood'.

'I don't want to know', Bamboo Babe declares.

Eventually, some tweezers are produced and sterilised. The surgeon - the only possible... - is Kira herself. She pokes a little and finds the end of the splinter. Moona is holding the torch, I act like my book is more interesting. A dense silence descends.

Kira pulls at the splinter. Pulls some more. More comes out. And then more. Someone's being very brave, and it's not me.


And what's more: see the splinter in the picture? It's not the only one. 

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