Friday, January 21, 2011

He held the blade steady as her darkening eyes burnt holes into the back
of his skull. Even under all that pressure he didn't flinch. Then he
swiftly marked her milk pure thigh with a cruel red line. The pain
shoots like burning acid.

The imaginary pain shakes her awake and she's suddenly sitting straight
up, breathing heavily and sweating like it's summer in India. Fingers
levitate to the imaginary wound and the blood abruptly becomes real.

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