psibrone
He opened his mouth as wide as he could, feeling the drill bump and grind against his back molar. It was the sound, it wasn't the vibration, it was the smell. That smell of burnt blood and flesh, wafting into his nose. It took him back to 1991, where he was stuck in a HUMVEE, his buddy next to him, or the remains of his buddy, after the IED blew them from the road.
writing since 2019 · 1 entries · 1 days shown up
each square is a day — lit means you showed up.
1longest streak
1days written
7entries / week
the words you reach for
smellbuddyopenedmouthwidefeelingdrillbumpgrindagainstmolarsoundvibrationburntbloodflesh