i’ve always hated scars, but now i’m the owner of a rather largish one from my emergency caesarean. the proud owner. i like it. it’s my badge of honour. the other side of trauma. james’ escape route into the world. it’s like having his thumbprint (or two) on me. the line is fading to silver, imbued with a certain beauty. the physical signpost of something bigger.
(photo thanks to Paul)
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