It looked like paint, and to him it might as well have been. This was his craft. This was his own personal brand of art. In the rooms around him lay ...he bodies of a family. A mother and her daughter. That is what he loved. That look on terror on one’s face while he worked his art with the other. He wasn’t without sympathy however. The child always went easy. Quick. The mother he stayed with. The mother he enjoyed himself with. He could still feel the glisten of her sex on his limp cock and. " He said."I figured that, Morgan." The other opened the side of the van. pullingout a roll of hardware cloth. "Give me a minute to cut a splint, andwe'll take him to the hospital." Charles, why must he be inflicted with modern medicine?" One of theflying figures piped. "We can fix this much more rapidly!" That's true, your grace." The man slid the wire back in. "Why don't youexplain it to the man, Morg?" You helped our friend." Morgan told him. "We can offer you a choice.Tomorrow around. More

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