Jennifer recoiled at the sight of my inscribed hand; in fact, she gagged a little bit. It was not the sight of it that really turned her stomach, it was not ugly or mangled, it was not scary or intimidating, it was just odd, and something knew nothing about. My excitement grew just thinking of how she would react once she saw my hand in action. Zapping demons left and right, holding them at bay while I yawned from boredom, it was my newest party trick to show her.
She said, “What in the hell happened to you? What is that and why is it etched into your skin?”
Staring down at the inscriptions, I took great pride in having this gift bestowed upon me, permanently scarred on my body but for the right reasons. Jennifer rubbed the letters, one at a time, and traced the circle with her index finger while she made a whistling sound as if my hand were a wine glass fil
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