Hearts And Sleeves



A practical turn to my wedding outfit: I must find a cover up for the bruise on my arm.

Off shopping then. Quickly. Time is of the essence, as they say. 

On the slip road to the A30 a hearse is pulled up, hazard lights flashing. The coffin is draped in a cloth, bright clear red, under a circled wreath.


How this contusion arrived, I don't recall, no matter how I frown. I drive: give up. There is a bruise: that is all that can be dredged.


A white crop cardigan suffices, matches the white flip-flops, the pearly Alice band, the damaged beaded bag that I bargained for.


It's a good bruise. Puzzles me, how I missed the cause of it.

It's the shape of a heart.
So, here I am, pulling odd faces in concentration, trying to take a picture of my heart-bruise. Either mystery or symbology makes it a perfect subject. 



Comments

Suze said…
Bit speechless. That's quite a contusion.
Dontcha just hate those bruises of unknown origins? On the bright side, at least yours has an interesting shape.
Stephanie said…
Heart-Shaped Bruise: Sounds like a Nirvana song! I get bruises-of-unknown origin all the time. It does make one wonder. Are we that clumsy, or that impervious to pain?

Hope it heals quickly, and enjoy that wedding!
Lisa Southard said…
Still puzzling over how it got there- bruises are expected in my line of work, and I do fall off tree branches in the woods... but this is a deep sore bruise and I'm surprised I didn't note the origin of it. I think it tells me how distracted I am!

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