When she fell, face first, with a grunt and a thudd,
the state of her health was precarious,
but staggering up, encrusted with mud,
the look on her face was hilarious.
***Yeah, there’s a silly rhyme for BOTH of these pages…thankfully for you, we left them out of the book. I think John is the only freakish weirdo in America who still likes poetry. You’re welcome! If you want to buy the book, hit the ETSY link above or go to etsy.com and search EEWbooks. -Marsha
Darryl woke up with that feeling again – impossible to describe but all too familiar at this point. He kept his eyes closed for a while longer, savoring the dream he was having about his old, normal life…before all the changes…before every morning became a horror show, wondering if he would find another growth.
He did his best to soothe his anxiety, tried to make lemonade out of the lemons that seemed to be smothering him. After all, how could yet another, extra hand possibly be all that bad for a skilled craftsman who worked with his hands? Each one seemed to have all his talent and strength. His productivity tripled, he was making money hand-over-fist (no pun intended) and for the first time in his life, people found him kinda interesting…..
But…waking up every few days with another fully formed hand growing out of some empty patch of his flesh was really starting to effect his sanity.
***This was a tough image to pull out of John’s thick head but with an iron skillet and a power drill I finally managed it (long story) and it lead to a new book project called “Body-Oddies” which is finally done and off to the printer. -Marsha