More to it.

Editing still.

I'm inserting this scene somewhere. And the other one is going in my driving home essay. Because I need to talk about the drive home, more than the befores and afters.

How I felt when I saw him. (a challenge from Newg. He doesn't like the idea of falling stomachs or washing relief.)

Imagine a rather large calloused, rough, manual labor hand on your torso. This hand defies physics and reaches into you, hooking the bottom of your stomach with its pinky and the top of your heart with your thumb, this hand then draws itself together, forming a tight fist, stretching and compressing your organs all at once, neglegent of any and all nausea and pain that this might cause you. You are left to just deal with this feeling, experience it a bit, and carry on.
That is how it felt every time I saw him.

more later, I have to go to class.