Here is a little bit of the non-fiction I've been working on lately. I'm sure it needs editing. I've only read it over once, which is never enough....
I was just making a cup of tea. The kettle boiled. This is where I wasn’t paying enough attention. I reached over the kettle. I think I stifled my scream. Burns from steam hurt. A lot. There was no ice in the freezer. Once I showed the President of the company and a couple other co-workers my would (that was quickly getting red and blistered) someone suggested I put aloe on it. I ran out to a local pharmacy and got some, but I didn’t know what to get. I should have asked a pharmacist while I was there. I should have gotten ice on it.
I spent most of that day coating my wrist with green gel. I watched it intently. It just got worse and worse. At least my aloe gel kept it from constantly hurting. It was gross. It was a triangular blister. Eventually, the blister went away and turned into a dark scar. Now, it is a light, polka-dotted triangle. It’s become part of my arm, but if I ever really look at it, I remember what happened, the story behind it and after writing this, all the stories that come after it.
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