January 25, 2007
This morning on the way to work I passed a spot of fresh blood about six inches in diameter, with a few drip marks heading away from it. It didn’t look good, but it didn’t look fatal.
This stands in contrast to the pool of blood I encountered once on a Friday or Saturday night in the middle of a large roundabout in Birimingham, England. This roundabout is one of several in the city that is reachable on foot only via pedestrian underpasses. It had some greenery but was mostly a network of intersecting concrete paths.
This puddle in Birmingham was frightening, like horror-movie frightening. It was easily 18 inches across and had depth and reflected points of light. As the color red is effectively invisible under the low-pressure sodium lights, those hideous streetlights endemic to Britain, it looked almost black. Staggering streaks led away in a lurching pattern towards the underpass opposite me.
I was with one of my Matt-friends at the time, Matt Parkes, I think, and he pulled me in the opposite direction. Otherwise I would have happily followed the blood trail to my death or some other denouement.
It still haunts me.
Have you ever come upon a mysterious pool of blood? Did it bother you?