His throat tightened and convulsed as it rejected the thick, hot fluid running down it. He woke as his stomach churned and he gagged and coughed violently, spewing blood over himself and his bedclothes, getting a second shower of as his head came forward and gravity took hold.
He stemmed the steady flow from his nose as he tried to cough and clear the blood out of his throat. Half asleep, fighting for what seemed like survival as he struggled to find the white kerchief there by his bed. Finally he finds it and presses it to his nostrils, he crawls out of bed and groggily plops into the chair at his desk.
Twenty minutes pass slowly, the only sound that of slow breathing, and the occasional sniff as he readjusted the thin piece of cloth to better retain the crimson fluid flowing freely from his nostrils. He began to feel lightheaded as stream began to slow, and finally to cease.
He stands slowly. Tossing the newly dyed kerchief aside, he rolls his head around on his neck and bring his arms up as his rolls his shoulders, feeling the tendons move and flex beneath this skin. He pauses as he feels a twinge and adjusts the angle of his stretch so the muscles don't pull against the tension in his back.
Taking a deep breath, he moves slowly to prepare for the day. Just another thing to overcome.
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As I wrote this blog this morning, I couldn't decide if I wanted to include this little footnote, or if I wanted to leave it as just a story. But I have decided to include it now, this way, only those who revisit the blog will read it. :)
As the title says "Blood and Pain" I feel I should expound upon that.
These are two things that I have been accustomed to since I was a small child, and I honestly believe that I have become comfortable with them, and that I shall continue to be acquainted with them for the remainder of my life.
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