My mother lost her hand in one
It was outside or on a porch that was mostly open.
Mama was screaming at me to unplug it. I remember running to the neighbors house for help.
It was a bloody bone crusher.
It took months of her using a strange contraption to try to save her hand.
The doctor wanted to cut her hand off but my dad refused to let them.
She had limited use of the hand for the rest of her life.
She was so good and tried to be pleasant. It didn't stop my father from drinking and abusing her.
I wish I had been Smart enough and big and strong enough to kill the sonofabitch
Lol
ReplyDeleteIt's a rare occasion that I get a thought that slips through the constant trauma running circles in my mind.
I was remembering Wilson and how he would bark and raise hell over the Cadbury rabbit that plucked like a chicken. I could get him going doing it.
What a special creature he was. 3 years of hell your kind GAWD put that sweet creature through!
Then I had to do his job and decide when he died!
NOT MY JOB!
I don't want to play God!
There's 2 kinds of people in church. Saints and dinners. I'm smart enough to know which one I am. Most of you aren't!
Sinners... shit I can't see. Eyes wobble. I can't do paperwork and fill out forms. My eyes jump! It's so frustrating.
ReplyDelete