Artemis' Silent Assault

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The arrow pierced through my chest wall unnoticed. A minor twinge that only slightly drew my attention away from the tasks at-hand. What literally dropped me to my knees was the unceremonious way in which the arrow, on its own volition, began to withdraw.

The head of the arrow must have been either larger than it initially appeared, jagged in its property, or dipped in some form of venom. Whatever the case, the pulsating burning throbs that gripped me just over my left pectoral muscle lit the entire area on fire. I tried to breathe deeply and send soothing energy to the area. To no avail. Each time I caught one deep cleansing breath the arrow tried to dislodge itself again – sending a barrage of concentrated fiery spasms.

I focused on the determination of the arrow, trying to discern its pace and pattern. I was trying to intellectualize the battle raging in my chest. As the spasms finally became less frequent and subside in intensity, I was able to unbutton the top of my blouse – curious to see if I could find the exit wound left by this unexpected assault and retreat. A prominent, raised vein was twitching across the upper pectoral, across the roundness of the breast, and was at least five inches in length.

I considered it for awhile. Reset the tempo of my breathing. Noted that the garage need a sweeping out from the prior days’ storms. Remembered, and then rescued dinner.

I did wonder, however, what I had done to piss-off Artemis?