Bad Blood
by feldman
Despite traveling through the tube that connects them like Chang and Eng, the heat is undeniable, intimate and oppressive. As necessary as the fastidious stitches holding his femoral vein together.
"Femoral vein" translates. So does "match" in the sense of equivalent, if not in the sense of portable fire. Damn, how cold had he gotten that his normal blood heat burns so hot?
He watches his donor pump his fist as the Red Cross taught him, he catches himself wanting to mirror it. He wonders how much hate is saturated into the blood along with the oxygen, how much love?
NOTE: I wrote this drabble and
then forgot about it for months, not realizing until after the fact how much
it preceded Skull Candy