That’s definitely the group name of bruises. That or constellation, but maybe that’s better saved for freckles.
I seem to be slightly anemic–vegetarian things–and I also walk into things more frequently than I would prefer, so I generally have at least three bruises at all times. Most of them are unremarkable, but I’ve had a few that were epic. After sustaining–not twin bruises, but definitely half-sibling or maybe first cousin bruises–on both legs when I walked into some sound equipment, I thought that the caption for my purpling would be something like “You have one drink and then you walk into the subwoofer.”
Most incidents wouldn’t make for especially interesting explanations, and there would be some intense repetition of “Bed was still in the same place as it was yesterday” and “Doorknobs still at hipbone height,” but there are a few contenders: “Claire’s knee on a gravel road,” provenance France circa 2012; “I was the shortest person at parkour,” and “I carried these boxes back and forth across campus three times.”
I in fact have pictures of all of those bruises, among others, and was going to present them here, but my better judgment/social graces are sitting on my shoulders whispering “Maybe just leave them to the imagination.”
