Put a plaster on it

By admin
11 February 2014

Joe staggers home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Charl. He takes off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Mary. He tiptoes as quietly as he can toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudges the bottom step.

As he catches himself by grabbing the banister, his body swings around and he lands heavily on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each of his back pockets break and make the landing especially painful.

Managing not to shout, Joe springs up, pulls down his pants, and looks in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks are cut and bleeding. He manages to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and begins putting a Band-Aid as best he can on each place he saw blood. He then hides the now almost empty Band-Aid box and stumbles his way to bed.

In the morning, Joe wakes up with searing pain in both his head and butt – and Mary staring at him from across the room.

She says, “You were drunk again last night weren't you?”

Joe says, “Why you say such a mean thing?”

“Well,” Mary says, “it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly … it's all those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.”

LIAN VAN STADEN, EMAIL

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