And Then There Were Nine

The little finger on my right hand still hurts, more than a week after I bent it backward in a sledding accident. I am beginning to think I should see a doctor. But, when they ask “reason for visit”, I don’t know if I can bring myself to say “pinky”.

Also, if it atrophies and falls off, I am totally going to tell people I was in the Yakuza. This possibility is factoring into my decision more than it probably should.

4 thoughts on “And Then There Were Nine

  1. Alternatively, you could tell people you inherited this ring, and you had to go throw it in a volcano, but then the previous owner bit your finger off…

  2. I did in fact lose the tip of one of my little fingers in a childhood accident.

    Sometime I tell people this is because I failed the yakuza, but if so they mostly just look at me blankly. This makes me sad.

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