Petition by David J. Schow
Abel Swift bandaged up his hand as best he could, given that there were no dressings or hydrogen peroxide in the apartment. To buy that kind of stuff from a bodega he would have to hump down six floors of stairs, and Abel hated exerting himself to waste money. He mummied up his hand with one of his wife’s halter tops tied in a knot, which gifted him with a bonus twinge of revenge. It served her right.
