She responds and says that, “I’ve been crying all day.” But that’s not true, is it, Sally? She hasn’t been crying all day, but her eyes have continued to water. And it feels like crying, but there’s no emotion involved, no tender sadness. No warmth in her chest that rises up and pushes out the tears. Instead, they just flow, watering her irises.
Her throat scratches, and she wants to claw out the insides, turn them pink like salmon. She coughs. He asks again is she’s alright. She looks down at her square drink napkin and sees spots of blood.
“I don’t think I am,” she says. He pushes back from the table. Alert spikes his eyes. He checks his phone. Sweat breaks out across his forehead. Sally sees this, and she wants to soothe him, tell him everything’s great, this is just a minor set-back, but who is she kidding?
Spots of blood when you cough is the first sign.