Today's OneWord: Scar
Everyone had some kind of scar. Red or black or brown. On their arms, their legs, their faces. It was a sign of the illness. A sign that they had been infected. Like a large scab that poisoned everything beneath the skin that was meant to protect us.
I was off for a cure. My scar ran from my forehead all the way down the left side of my jaw. I looked like a warrior. I felt like a doomed child.
I was off for a cure. My scar ran from my forehead all the way down the left side of my jaw. I looked like a warrior. I felt like a doomed child.
This reminds me of an episode of Doctor Who. Although, in that episode everyone's scar was in the same place and then they all turned into these weird gas-mask-faced people.
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