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The pang was sharp and quick.
My body went taut,
And then slackened as she grimaced and yanked out the
Shiny, blood soaked blade. Bowing my head
And clutching at my chest, I felt the blood rush
through my throat and into my lungs.
Spluttering, choking, my eyes
bulged. The froth
Filling my mouth gargled up through
my perforated throat.
My neck was tight, my own muscles a garrote
squeezing at my pipes.
I could hear the short chokes and
staggered, staccato gasps
Of my last few breaths. Drooling deep crimson onto
her shoes, I buckled to the ground,
Jolting to my knees, worshipping her,
praying to her.
My eyes rolled back, and seeing not but up into my
own head, all onus and outrage departed,
My wickedness was upon me.
SUBMIT
TO THE FINE PRINT!
fineprnt@indiana.edu
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