Road Rash

Jeri moaned as she stumped into the kitchen, her leg thumping loudly against the tiled floor. “It really hurts.”

“Well, what did I tell you?” said Joan. “Go to the doctor, I said.” She sniffed and chopped another carrot.

“It was just a little scrape!”

“Well, obviously it got infected, didn’t it?”

Jeri dropped into a chair and leaned over. She rolled up her pant leg and poked at the spot where pale flesh blended with the hard, pebbly black surface that extended beyond. At the toes, she could just see a hint of yellow paint. “Bad infected,” she agreed.