|
"I feel Walt kneading a nub of scar tissue on the side of my wrist.
The nerves there spark. I haven't told him how I gained these marks
of crucifixion.... Walt's thumb goes around and around my ugly little
scar, and the nerve shocks almost make me twitch. I'm not ready to
discuss their clever method of restraint and deterrence: the long thick
needles through my flesh. I quickly learned to hold still or to beg for
straps, admitting I was a weak inferior who needed help to cooperate.
But there were still times when I had to fight. I remember the spikes
rubbing my bones and ligaments as I struggled, the jangle of nerves,
the leaking blood."
|
|
Stories |
Home |
