Razor sharp.
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New! 07/02/12
By Caressa
Razor Sharp
Funny how it doesn’t bleed. It looked like a fine line traced neatly across his
palm. Until he moved. Nausea rushed to his throat at the same time the red flush
gushed over his pale hand.
The shaking started. Weird really, because he still couldn’t feel anything
despite the heavy flow of crimson over his hand, pooling on his right boot. His
throat was tight, and painful, and bile burned his chest. He vomited, unable to
keep from staring at the odd mix of yellow bile and bright red blood.
That metalic smell. The pungent one that accompanies large pools of blood. He
wanted to call for help, but the pain in his throat stole words and breath. It
was getting dark, like entering a long tunnel. Odd, he thought, as he heard, but
didn’t feel his body hit the ground.
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By Sharon
Razor sharp. He ran his finger across the blade in contemplation of his next move. Should he do it, or not? The thought scared him, because once it did it he couldn’t go back. What would his family think? Would they be angry? Would they understand his actions? He hoped so. He was tired; he didn’t think he could go on anymore. Would his station mates understand the reasons behind his actions? After all, they probably knew him better than anyone.
Yes, he could do this. Finally, he smeared some shaving cream across his upper lip and closed his eyes for some final inspiration. On the count of five he took that razor sharp edge and began to shave off his trademark moustache. The feel of the metal scraping against his skin made him shudder. For years he ran the device across his face, but never beneath his nose.
When the deed was finished, he rinsed off the after shave and took stock of his new look. I look like I’m fifteen years old, he thought to himself. Boy, did I just give Johnny ammunition for weeks.
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Could've Been Worse
By Audrey W.
Razor sharp. That’s what the leaves of a century plant are. John Gage became all too aware of just how much damage they could do when he nearly fell into one during a rescue.
He’d been carrying the black drug box and biophone as he hurried up a flagstone walkway alongside his partner, Roy DeSoto. In their haste to get to the front door of the house, neither noticed that the corner of one of the flat stones was sticking up.
The front of John’s right shoe caught on it and, with his hands full, sent the paramedic into an awkward stumble forward and toward the right. He’d managed to keep his balance, but his right forearm brushed up against a large four-foot tall century plant that sat just off to the side of the walkway in the grass covered yard, causing Gage to let out a small gasp.
The spiky leaf had raked across his flesh, leaving three jagged tears between his elbow and wrist, each about four inches long.
“You okay?” Roy wondered.
John looked at the crimson red lines as his blood seeped up through the shallow rough-edged scrapes.
*Damn*, it stings, he thought to himself.
“Yeah,” he said with disgust in his voice as he once again eyed his arm. “I’ll be alright. We’d better ask these people if they know about that flagstone while we’re here. . .an’ maybe suggest they consider moving that plant back a ways.”
Roy nodded in agreement as he got a better look at his partner’s arm. It would need antiseptic spray and a sterile bandage wrapped around it to cover his minor wounds as soon as the chance came. But for now both men could only breathe a sigh of relief as they glanced over their shoulders at the plant as they quickly continued on.
Had John lost his balance and fallen into the century plant, one or more of the strong thick sharp-tipped leaves could have easily impaled him.
Both paramedics knew things could’ve been a hell of a lot worse.
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Words
By Audrey W.
Razor sharp. That’s what her words were as they cut like a knife through his heart.
John Gage sat quietly in the livingroom of his small apartment, a cold bottle of beer in his right hand as he thought back to his latest defeat.
She was a pretty brunette he’d met at the bowling alley. She’d slipped and taken a hard fall onto her bottom right after she’d thrown her bowling ball down a lane.
Karen. . .
He smiled slightly at the memory of her with her friends in the section next to the one he and a few of his friends were at. She had an awkward approach to the lane that some would call ‘goofy’. To him it was more like ‘cute’.
He watched her every chance he got.
When her feet had gone out from under her one time as she took her turn, and she didn’t get up right away, the paramedic in him surfaced and he was over in an instant to make sure she was okay.
“My knight in shining armor” she’d teasingly called him as he helped her to her feet and over to a chair.
After they shared some time together between turns at bowling in their respective groups, Johnny had worked up enough courage to suggest they get together for dinner sometime. That’s when he was unexpectedly shot down.
“Me? Go out with you? On a date?” The words were followed by a giggle before she nailed him with the final blow. “Sorry, it’s been cool and all, but I thought you were a doctor or something at first. Now that I know you’re just a fireman. . .well, I know I can do a lot better than that.”
Johnny took a swig of his beer, then pursed his lips as he set it on the end table near the right arm of the couch.
Now that he had had more time to think about it, he knew he could do a lot better than hook up with someone like Karen.
He sat back and smiled as the words ‘good riddance’ came to mind.
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