This morning's prompt is 'bandaid'.

(I went with the heart fingers)

They went still and quiet as they heard the moans, waiting. Carol smiled at her son and held up thumb and forefinger, the heart fingers. Tom smirked back and returned the gesture.

Brenda frowned, where before she would have scowled. The antics of their strays grew on you, like a fungus! She smiled. Things were good, all good, she insisted that they were good, but she knew Ben was struggling.

Ben was not good.

His feet and legs were swollen and felt like they were stuffed inside galoshes ten sizes to big. To make matters worse, he'd found and walked on a nail, pressed up through the sole and into his foot a day ago. It bled freely and at least he was up to date with his tetanus, but without his long gone diabetes meds he was going to heal slowly, if at all. Infection scared him shitless.