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i must have been less than or near to 10 years old when i did a barefoot cartwheel at the park by my childhood home and landed my big toe squarely on a broken piece of glass from a soda bottle.
i remember trying to run/hobble home with my toe in the air, using only my heel for support. then, i remember the dr.’s office where they proceeded to inject the wound with novocaine while i simultaneously squeezed a stuffed, wind-up rabbit so tight that it stopped working. i left the building with three stitches.
this afternoon, my big toe feels like that piece of glass is still there.