Trails
by Joseph Veronneau
Paul ran to put the packages in the truck, loading up the day’s supplies to bring to the hospital. He was perspiring hard when he ran about the warehouse.
When he finally got to the loading dock, he forgot to set the ramp up in between. The result? he took out his two front teeth and one molar while falling between the dock and the bed of the truck. Face first implant. Everyone around heard the rattle like a metal baseball bat swinging for the fences on a homerun. It echoed a hollow blast, sending employees over to make sure he hadn’t knocked himself out.
He clutched his jaw for a few minutes, and made a quick trip to the bathroom to make sure everything was still intact. He emerged from the restroom with gauze hanging out of one side of his mouth, smiling a nervous smile that screamed please don’t look at me. The truck shuttled off into the overcast afternoon, and we collectively stood and looked at the small S shaped trail of blood he had smeared with his foot walking out.
