“Mary do something, it hurts!” Brian wailed.
Mary hurried Brian to the car and raced to A&E.
“Brian you have macerata,” pronounced the doctor.
Brian looked apprehensively at him. Mary stroked his arm in reassurance.
“Brian I need to ask Mary a, ah, delicate question, so I can prescribe the most appropriate treatment for you.” The doctor paused as Brian looked confused.
“Mary, are you a virgin?”
Mary’s face went bright red, the same colour as Brian’s knuckles. She was 45 years old and he wanted her to admit this in front of her younger brother whom she hadn’t seen for three years. Oh the shame!
For 100 consecutive days I will write and post a short story (about 100 words) incorporating a randomly selected word from Afterliff: A new dictionary of things there should be words for.
Miraculous red marks on the knuckles, caused by an encounter with a) the Virgin Mary or b) a nutmeg grater.
To lock eyes with someone inside a parked car in the process of checking out your appearance in their window.