Bluehound
05-10-2011, 02:07 PM
I smile as I trace the scar on my leg, it's in the shape of a tadpole, a bumpy knot of skin for the head and a curving line for the tail.
I remember your face on the day that it happened. Your big brown eyes , which I was jealous of then, peeking out of your flop of sun bleached hair. Both of us frozen in the moment and staring in horror.
It had all started so innocently. The usual game of you chasing me with some half baked ,homemade projectile - this time a peg gun. Me screaming and running ,searching desperately for cover.
But now we were stood transfixed, you holding one end of a piece of wood and my leg speared on a nailhead at the other.Finally making a decision you elect to drag the nail out through my skin , creating forever the tattoo of a tadpole tail. I begin to scream again but for real this time, no smirking.
It feels strange to look at the scar now, a mark from a different age ,before social networks, the internet and texting. Our world was so small then just you ,me and the battleground in our garden. I'm happy to have a reminder of that time, captured in skin, the remnants of a rusty old nail that went much deeper than either of us could ever have imagined.
I remember your face on the day that it happened. Your big brown eyes , which I was jealous of then, peeking out of your flop of sun bleached hair. Both of us frozen in the moment and staring in horror.
It had all started so innocently. The usual game of you chasing me with some half baked ,homemade projectile - this time a peg gun. Me screaming and running ,searching desperately for cover.
But now we were stood transfixed, you holding one end of a piece of wood and my leg speared on a nailhead at the other.Finally making a decision you elect to drag the nail out through my skin , creating forever the tattoo of a tadpole tail. I begin to scream again but for real this time, no smirking.
It feels strange to look at the scar now, a mark from a different age ,before social networks, the internet and texting. Our world was so small then just you ,me and the battleground in our garden. I'm happy to have a reminder of that time, captured in skin, the remnants of a rusty old nail that went much deeper than either of us could ever have imagined.