Isn't this pretty? Last Saturday, I looked down and watched my hand turn from a healty pink into a rainbow of colors. Trouble is, I don't remember how it happened. No clue. I didn't bang it into something. I didn't backhand anyone. An anvil didn't fall on it.
I sat and watched in wonder as a small discoloration grew into a horrifying war-like contusion. Then it hit me: If I stare at it long enough, will the bruise suddenly reveal the image of a biblical figure? Will people gather outside my house lighting candles in reverence? Will the police have to be called to direct traffic? Will my son be able to set up a snow-cone stand to refresh the faithful masses?