Blood
We thought of our bio teacher as a delicate young thing, while we fancied ourselves as tough young fellers. Most days she wore flowers in her hair. Being one and all under the spell of her charm we set aside our rowdiness in her class and asked foolish questions instead, just to hear her give us answers we didn't really listen to. When we were doing blood she heated a pin in a candle flame and without a moment's hesitation pricked her thumb and smeared a drop of blood across a microscope slide. I would gladly have offered my thumb if she had asked, but if I'd had to prick it myself, I think I would have hesitated at least for a brief moment.
lunch break -
I retrieve a dropped flower
from the waste basket
(In: Whirligig Vol. II No. 1, May 2011)
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