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I held my pinkie toe in between my thumb and the index finger, crying. There's a huge gash on my toe that's only flushing out blood. The rest of the toe has swollen up to the size of a pea.
The swelling had just started to change into pink. I can't wait to see it change into purple. There's like a palette of colour transformation going on right in front of my eyes, and I don't know if I'm so deranged to be curious or excited about it. Because, holy mother of lord, it hurts a lot.
I sob silently taking deep breaths, my chest heaving slowly with anger. I mean I'm angry yeah. At a lot of things. But you would probably know a lot about that.
Because, that's all I do. Complain. Sit and fuss about all of it. Like a sixty years old, senile old woman who has seen more sad days than happ
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