[response to “Terminal things”]
Alex cut himself on a piece of glass. His mother went to go get a piece of cloth to stop the bleeding, but Alex noticed that the drops of blood, which were quickly becoming huge blotches on the carpet, were doing something interesting. They became spiny little metal pellets and burrowed. He shook his hand, not like a handshake, but how you wring out a towel when you want there to be less liquid. More blood spurted out, only this time it became a pink powder and made the room very dusty. He felt slightly faint. It would make more sense if he knew where the glass came from or what it had touched. But it had run off. It was probably in his kneecap or his father’s study.
[read the response: “Shatter Stain Glass (demo)”]