ATTACK VINO;
my small dying
I flip a
zipped light, threaten fire, the black moth burned under his own skin as he
fought against us, and I felt his hot fire under my hand, that held his arm, I
shook a bottle, and the messy lid cracked and dripped the drug onto his skin,
then I took off the plastic sheaf, of the
syringe and pushed it in.
He stopped moving, but the other men in their
wooden yellow masks, men I didn’t know, shoved him around, and stepped on him
like clumsy blind bears, as he struggled, and then screamed;
"I am not going to be in put in your
fire!"
Then hawthorne gets injected.
I am against Her.