“Shit,” Flug hissed and dropped the knife he had been using. A small trickle of blood came from his index finger, and he hurried over to the sink to get running water over it.
“Not too deep.” He mumbled to himself while trying to get a look at the cut. A little soap and a bandage on it and he should be fine.
Why was he always so clumsy with everything except his hobbies? He could disassemble electronics and put them back together in the blink of an eye, but ask him to make dinner (as he was doing right now) and he would somehow find a way to make the biggest mess possible.
He didn’t like to admit it, but it had been getting worse ever since he had read the letter regarding his scholarship application.
Building things was what he was best at. If he couldn’t get into a school specifically for that, then what were his chances of finding a job for it?
He picked the knife up off the floor and brought it over to the sink as well. As he let the water run over it, he lost himself in the noise it made.
He needed backup plan. He needed to find something to do with his life.
Otherwise, he’d be just as bad as his brother.