I walked over to check on the girl who was the last to stagger to her feet. She looked as if she hadn’t slept in weeks… the dark circles under her eyes made me think of a raccoon. She saw me and started grumbling in English.
I could barely finish a sentence before she cut me off with her growling monotone.
She rubbed at her eyes again as she stood up.
She held up her right arm– there were indeed sizeable bruises around the forearm. I rolled up my sleeves to check for injuries of my own…
She flipped me off as she sank into the couch and almost immediately fell asleep again.
So much for good first impressions. But she did raise a valid point… where did those bruises come from? And did we all have them?