A slip of the hand and prick. You’re bleeding. Your nerves are momentarily severed. A prick and you’re in a world of agony for a moment of time.

 

Once, when I was a child, my mother dropped a needle. She was in the middle of telling me not to run through the living room because I could step on the needle, when I stepped on it. It pierced through my arch, deeper than a simple prick, though it wasn’t as hurtful as you might imagine.

 

The pricking is mainly annoying now, painful in a way, but on the whole, a thing to be swatted away.

 

Take care to be controlled and steady, friends.

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