Pus Junkies

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The pus oozed out like a pale worm. Little by little, curling like a pig’s tail as it spiraled out. Kip used both thumbnails to squeeze the irritated, bloated zit that had made itself at home on the spot right between his eyes. Tiny hairs stuck out of it, making it look like an oily red hedgehog on his face.

Once the pus had run out, the blood followed right behind it, painted the edge of his nails red. Kip ripped another sheet of Kleenex from the box beside him, wiped the pus string onto it, then used it to sop up the blood. He already had four torn pieces pasted to various spots on his face.

The pills weren’t working. Before those, he had tried every cream and medicated ointment the dermatologist offered, every face wash and wipe he could get over the counter. The acne won the battle every time. In fact, it only seemed to be getting worse. Covering his face, the back of his neck, his chest, his ass, and his entire back. The pimples pulsated on the surface of his skin, tickled his flesh as if each one was filled with baby spiders thrashing around inside.

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