The fog was swirling, there were faces in the mist ... one by one the faces grew a third eye in the middle of the forehead ... it was extremely slow ..... I could see the bullet moving toward the face. A shadow of the bullet formed ... grew smaller ... the tip of the bullet touched a dot ... a pimple ... the pimple grew, so slowly. The grooves, barely moving as they spun the bullet, keeping it burrowing into the skin. It began to flatten as the hollow point touched the bone. It spread, four. He also retrieved one of my Binkies from the medicine cabinet above the sink and then bent over to slip it between my lips to calm me. When the bag was full and the temperature was proper, he knelt down beside the tub again with the tools in-hand and all prepared.“Are you ready, Honey?” I murmured affirmation through the pacifier and closed my eyes tightly, bracing myself for the pressure that was to come.He gently pressed the tubing against my well-lubricated rosebud and began to feed it into. More

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