A THOUSAND MILLING BODIES choked the path ahead to that steel door at the far end of the concourse. That unmarked and unremarkable door. The…
I cared what she thought, so when she dared me, I knew I was in trouble. I turned to her with my objection poised and ready, but there she sat, stiff, silent, disapproving. Her ever more toothy sneer taunted. Her eyes threatened retribution. I never could ignore a dare.
She had been warned, but now it was too late. The limb already displayed signs of infestation and her stump threatened infection.
She re-sealed her satchel then the barkeep removed it. She watched him bury it in the ice-tub, noted his absent smile. Her stump tingled of resuming pain.