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Weekly Contest #297
One... two, three. Again. One, two, three. Fuck no. Breathe. One, two, thr— A knock on the door. “Julien?” Julien froze. Eventually, he managed to meet his own gaze in the mirror. Empty. That’s how they’d describe it, like his soul had abandoned him. The bags under his eyes had bags of their own. “Just a second!” he yelled, hoping she could hear him. He quickly rinsed his hands and stared at the blood slowly oozing down the sink. One last look. Breathe. Compose yourself. He dried his hands and clumsily wrapped his worn, faded bandage arou...
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