The wound that wanted to become a scab



In an old crows nest there lived an open wound that would not grow, because it had no body to grow onto. The wound dreamt about becoming a scab, preferably on a child's knee. He had heard that on a child's knee wounds were left in peace to grow fat scabs. But in the woods where the wound lived, there were no children.

While the wound sat sadly in its crows-nest, an elk came by. The elk's back itched and it began to scratch itself on the tree trunk under the nest. At the same moment the elk cut itself on a sharp branch, the wound jumped down onto its back. That's how the wound got a body to grow a scab on.

Perfect! The wound thought and started to grow a scab immediately. But the elk didn't want to have a wound. It itched badly and the elk scratched the wound against stones and grass. "Au, au," the open wound cried. "Stop it, otherwise I can't grow a scab." The elk didn't hear, and continued to scratch until the wound became bigger and worse than it had been in the crows-nest. This is no place to stay, the wound thought. So as the elk swam over a river, the wound saw a salmon and jumped off.

The salmon had been hurt by a fishing hook. The wound attached itself there and started to grow a scab. But the salmon couldn't leave the wound in peace. It scratched itself against the sharp stones on the riverbed. "Au, au," the wound shouted. "Please don't do that, then I can grow a scab on you." No, the salmon didn't want to listen either. It continued to scratch until the wound became bigger and worse than before. Finally the open wound jumped off under a waterfall, and climbed ashore.

I'll never find anyone to grow a scab on, it thought. I'm a big, wet and nasty wound. Maybe I should just disappear. It looked around to find a hiding place. It then heard a boy playing with a ball close by. Suddenly the boy stumbled and hit his knee on the ground. Imediately the wound jumped on it.

The boy limped home shouting: "It's bleeding, it's bleeding." In spite of that, he was very proud, because this was the finest wound he'd ever had. It was big, wet and it itched all over. At home the wound was treated by his mother. Even though the child was crying, the wound was terribly happy. His mother washed him and put a big plaster over it for protection.

Next day the boy went to school boasting about his big new wound and what a marvellous scab he would soon have on his knee.

© Martin Nygaard