fantom brooser

when I was younger, I bruised so easily that people were always afraid of being accused of hitting me (as if I would let them). some days, I'd just wake up in the morning looking like I'd taken a vicious kick in the arm or ribs. I would tell everyone I had a phantom bruiser. he never hurt me, just left me with a dotted break of broken blood vessels, floating up like one of those mystery pictures coming out of a dot matrix printer. a lite-brite pixelation of purples of greens.

look who paid me a visit last week: