Torture

Torture

Reflected in the steel above, I watch the red line widen as he traces the scalpel from my navel to between my breasts. I tense as the sting turns from blister hot to icy cold; but I won’t scream, denying him that final satisfaction.

Photo by quinn.anya

Doug Langille
me@douglangille.ca

Husband, father, writer and shameless technophile.

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