Bled

Edgar’s nose had been bleeding for six days.

At first he stuffed tissue after tissue up his left nostril to try and stem the tide. When that didn’t work, he carried a small maroon washcloth around to mask the intense amount of blood pouring forth from his face. By the fifth day, he gave up, awakening to crimson-drenched pillows and sheets, his left cheek dripping with his own gut juice.

By the seventh day, it was over.

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