The beast that shouted LOVE at the heart of the world!
God that book (short story? Novelette?) was dark.
Really good game though!
What I find interesting is that moment when you can tell it will hurt but it hasn’t been processed by your brain yet.
And then you get to find out just how much it’s gonna hurt.
Lol yeah your brain gives you just enough time to be like “aww fuck here it coommmmmeeesss”
Many years ago, I think seven but maybe more, I was on a trip with my wife. We were staying at a B&B. One of the nights she went out and I stayed in. I was not familiar with the room but was walking around it with nary a concern on my mind; as a result, when I rounded the coffee table, I casually swung my off foot with the turn, which brought my foot under the edge of the loveseat.
Turns out, there was a 4x4 support exactly in the path of said swing and I had mashed my toes into it with the full force of casual walking turn. I don’t remember how much noise I made, but I don’t think it was quiet. Recovery for that was basically just limping and complaining for the rest of the trip.
Later, three years ago, I broke my other - before this event, good - ankle in a fall. I went to the hospital and had it surgically addressed. (Incidentally, I actually made less noise than you might expect when all of this happened.)
Now, I’m not often in a position where the best way to pass the time is to hang my head and stare at my naked toes, but it does happen. When it does, I notice that the toes on my right foot (the broken ankle one) are wonderfully straight, aligned parallel to each other, just generally how I imagine healthy toes.
On the left foot - the one that kicked a solid, fixed piece of wood - the toes turn every which way, few or none pointing the same direction; one of them goes fairly straight, then suddenly veers off on a new adventure after the last knuckle; one has a misshapen nail; one has a non-rounded toetip. They don’t hurt or (IMHO) look particularly ugly and they’re still functional, but they’re not the visually idealized version of toes.
I have no idea how my toes looked before either circumstance, so maybe this was always the way, but I always wonder if the left toes got misaligned because I never sought medical attention for it; whether the right ones are so straight because they lined them up in surgery; or maybe some combination of the two.
Anyway, I assume this is the kind of response you were looking for when you made a post about toe stubbing.
Cool story bro
(I mean it, this was a fun read, thank you)
Glad you enjoyed it! I didn’t figure anyone would care, even thought I might get some downvotes. Therefore, I do appreciate you letting me know.
I can give you some downvotes if you really want, nobody seems to hate you as much as you imagine
I think I’m satisfied with where I stand now, but it was very kind of you to offer.
“I think seven but maybe more, I was on a trip with my wife.”
I read that as: I think I was seven but maybe more, I was on a trip with my wife. And really thought this story was about to take a completely different direction. Reading disabilities can be fun sometimes lol.
Nah, sorry for the confusion. Age seven was when I broke my arm. I don’t know what my wife was doing at the time.
I broke my arm around the same age, must be a right of passage. I was pretending to sleep on a stone cistern and rolled off…
That sounds rather frightening and uncomfortable. My condolences.
I was trying to catch a super bouncy ball in an inverted traffic cone and tripped on a drainage device on the edge of my driveway, then my brother did the same and landed on my arm.
Whether it was broken before or after he landed on it depends on whether you ask him or me.
Inverted… traffic cone? Like you pushed it inside out?
No, I just held it by the narrow end so that the bottom - the wider end - was pointed upward. It was the last day of school and I had come up with a game to celebrate.
The game was, my two brothers and I would stand in a triangle holding traffic cones like this. Holding them upside down exposed the hollow interior.
Our dad would stand in the middle of the triangle and throw a super bouncy ball like this as hard as he could against the driveway so that it would rise far into the air as he got out of the way.
As soon as he was out of the way, my brothers and I would run around with our upside-down traffic cones, trying to catch the ball in their hollow interiors.
Sounds like a real good time honestly. Socks it ended in a broken bone, but that’s kids I suppose.
Mines a bad memory, my mother thought I was faking it and ignored me, my dad had to take me to the doctor two days later when it was his turn for custody. My mom was called many a bad names that day lol.
Well even very broken toes only get some tape and advice about wearing stiff shoes, so it would probably not have made much difference anyway. The one exception being large fractures involving the joints in the big toe.
Well, hopefully I didn’t have that! Thank you for the information.
The sequel
Fuck that, my pain is your pain. You either get your ass up and scream along with me voluntarily, or I’m dropping you feet first onto the nastiest Lego brick deployment the Eldritch Horrors can think up. Your call.
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