IANONE WEEK LATER…“Are you sure about this, sir? If you get ink on your skin, you'll never be able to donate blood.” Anderson says as the tattoo artist Luca hooked me up with moves closer.“I've never been more sure of anything in my life.”“Why won't he be able to? After six months or a year, he can do it.” Joe says, but Anderson shakes his head.“Not for him it won't be possible. His doctor advised against it. The black ink, especially, can trigger an allergic reaction he had years ago. If it happens again, which it will, he'll be permanently barred from donating blood.” “Proceed, Joe. I’m not here to save lives,” I mutter. “I’m here to remember the one life I couldn’t save.”Anderson sighs before typing away on his tablet. “Very well then, I'm sure you'll be slightly relieved to know that I found the people who hit Mrs. Quinn’s car.”I drag on my cigarette and release the smoke, watching it form a small cloud. It's been a week since I buried my wife, and I can barely function. T
Huling Na-update : 2025-08-12 Magbasa pa