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I feel ill. Really ill.
The coincidence of such an event is uncanny. I can see why you're all so afraid to go to the Hospital, for I, myself, have just been there.
I was mowing the lawn this afternoon, and I was nearly finished when some stupid friggin' grass clogged the blade. I went underneath to unclog it, when the blade span up again and sliced off my hand. Clean.
Why the hell didn't I turn off the Lawnmower first? The pain in my arm is so bad. It's also covered in Iodine. And it hurts.
And the worst part? They couldn't reattach it. I now have to go through life with only 4 fingers. And I have already found problems.
It had to be my writing hand, didn't it? If it was going to be either of my hands, it would be the one that I write with. I also do most things with my right hand, including, well, y'know.
And the thing is, I still feel like I still have my hand there. I want to go feel it but I can't. It's so frustrating.
I look at the stump, all rapped in bandages. How could I have been so stupid? No one leaves the lawnmower running to go and stick their hand under and unclog it. What a fool I am.
I can see this seriously affecting my outlook on life. I had seriously low self-esteem beforehand (Pun not intended), and now I have to face life's challenges with only one hand. I don't want to cry, I really don't, but the only way I could vent my anger was by telling you guys.
"Go do the lawn Howard. I've been calling you for 10 minutes!"
I slowly rub my eyes. With both hands.
How could a be so stupid? What a fool I am. I was just dreaming.
Mowing the lawn has never been so rewarding until now. I look at my hand and wonder what life would be without it, and I feel I have already been able to gaze through the window and see.
And before I can think, the blade clogs. I slowly reach under to unclog it, unconscious of the fact that the motor is still chugging…
The coincidence of such an event is uncanny. I can see why you're all so afraid to go to the Hospital, for I, myself, have just been there.
I was mowing the lawn this afternoon, and I was nearly finished when some stupid friggin' grass clogged the blade. I went underneath to unclog it, when the blade span up again and sliced off my hand. Clean.
Why the hell didn't I turn off the Lawnmower first? The pain in my arm is so bad. It's also covered in Iodine. And it hurts.
And the worst part? They couldn't reattach it. I now have to go through life with only 4 fingers. And I have already found problems.
It had to be my writing hand, didn't it? If it was going to be either of my hands, it would be the one that I write with. I also do most things with my right hand, including, well, y'know.
And the thing is, I still feel like I still have my hand there. I want to go feel it but I can't. It's so frustrating.
I look at the stump, all rapped in bandages. How could I have been so stupid? No one leaves the lawnmower running to go and stick their hand under and unclog it. What a fool I am.
I can see this seriously affecting my outlook on life. I had seriously low self-esteem beforehand (Pun not intended), and now I have to face life's challenges with only one hand. I don't want to cry, I really don't, but the only way I could vent my anger was by telling you guys.
"Go do the lawn Howard. I've been calling you for 10 minutes!"
I slowly rub my eyes. With both hands.
How could a be so stupid? What a fool I am. I was just dreaming.
Mowing the lawn has never been so rewarding until now. I look at my hand and wonder what life would be without it, and I feel I have already been able to gaze through the window and see.
And before I can think, the blade clogs. I slowly reach under to unclog it, unconscious of the fact that the motor is still chugging…
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I feel ill. Really ill.
The coincidence of such an event is uncanny. I can see why you're all so afraid to go to the Hospital, for I, myself, have just been there.
I was mowing the lawn this afternoon, and I was nearly finished when some stupid friggin' grass clogged the blade. I went underneath to unclog it, when the blade span up again and sliced off my hand. Clean.
Why the hell didn't I turn off the Lawnmower first? The pain in my arm is so bad. It's also covered in Iodine. And it hurts.
And the worst part? They couldn't reattach it. I now have to go through life with only 4 fingers. And I have already found problems.
It had to be my writing hand, didn't it? If it was going to be either of my hands, it would be the one that I write with. I also do most things with my right hand, including, well, y'know.
And the thing is, I still feel like I still have my hand there. I want to go feel it but I can't. It's so frustrating.
I look at the stump, all rapped in bandages. How could I have been so stupid? No one leaves the lawnmower running to go and stick their hand under and unclog it. What a fool I am.
I can see this seriously affecting my outlook on life. I had seriously low self-esteem beforehand (Pun not intended), and now I have to face life's challenges with only one hand. I don't want to cry, I really don't, but the only way I could vent my anger was by telling you guys.
"Go do the lawn Howard. I've been calling you for 10 minutes!"
I slowly rub my eyes. With both hands.
How could a be so stupid? What a fool I am. I was just dreaming.
Mowing the lawn has never been so rewarding until now. I look at my hand and wonder what life would be without it, and I feel I have already been able to gaze through the window and see.
And before I can think, the blade clogs. I slowly reach under to unclog it, unconscious of the fact that the motor is still chugging…
The coincidence of such an event is uncanny. I can see why you're all so afraid to go to the Hospital, for I, myself, have just been there.
I was mowing the lawn this afternoon, and I was nearly finished when some stupid friggin' grass clogged the blade. I went underneath to unclog it, when the blade span up again and sliced off my hand. Clean.
Why the hell didn't I turn off the Lawnmower first? The pain in my arm is so bad. It's also covered in Iodine. And it hurts.
And the worst part? They couldn't reattach it. I now have to go through life with only 4 fingers. And I have already found problems.
It had to be my writing hand, didn't it? If it was going to be either of my hands, it would be the one that I write with. I also do most things with my right hand, including, well, y'know.
And the thing is, I still feel like I still have my hand there. I want to go feel it but I can't. It's so frustrating.
I look at the stump, all rapped in bandages. How could I have been so stupid? No one leaves the lawnmower running to go and stick their hand under and unclog it. What a fool I am.
I can see this seriously affecting my outlook on life. I had seriously low self-esteem beforehand (Pun not intended), and now I have to face life's challenges with only one hand. I don't want to cry, I really don't, but the only way I could vent my anger was by telling you guys.
"Go do the lawn Howard. I've been calling you for 10 minutes!"
I slowly rub my eyes. With both hands.
How could a be so stupid? What a fool I am. I was just dreaming.
Mowing the lawn has never been so rewarding until now. I look at my hand and wonder what life would be without it, and I feel I have already been able to gaze through the window and see.
And before I can think, the blade clogs. I slowly reach under to unclog it, unconscious of the fact that the motor is still chugging…
i don't know what to say
Good story Chipple.
And people call me a girl for being afraid of almost everything that moves of whirl or is generally loud.
jerkasses.
jerkasses.
You twisted sick idiot. I was feeling sorry for you there!
Speachless is an understatement
I initially misread it as not a story.
Notorious Biggles wrote:
> You twisted sick idiot. I was feeling sorry for you there!
What the hell? Do you actually mean you didn't realise this was a story?
> You twisted sick idiot. I was feeling sorry for you there!
What the hell? Do you actually mean you didn't realise this was a story?
Nicely told.
Haha. The guys name is Howard!
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