Of Scars

So, just a moment ago my head twinged and I put my fingers to the scar that is there, and I cracked up laughing. I laughed not because the pain started to feel warm and fuzzy, no, no. I laughed because my forehead is scarred in the exact same place that Harry’s is. Granted, on Harry it looks dashing, and it twinges because the Dark Lord is doing something nasty. On me it looks idiotic and it twinges because I went head first into a garage door opener. And probably mine is less permanent. And certianly less glamorous, and more prone to people staring and saying, “dude, Sarah, what did you do to your head?” At least the swelling has gone down…

But now I can’t stop giggling. Oh! The Pain! But is it a Dark Revel or is it my Aunt’s garage door?

We may never know.

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