Tuesday, December 15, 2015

100 Words a Day 750

He withdrew his gleaming bone saw from his bloodstained bag and calmly began removing the corpse’s hand. It fell to the floor. He put the saw down and picked up the hand, its smooth, pink skin contrasting sharply with the bulbous purple flesh that covered his own arm. Once it was back on the table, he picked up the saw again and began removing the ruins of his own pink hand. He hissed against the pain shooting through his arm until the final push of the saw removed the last scrap of bloody flesh connecting the hand to his arm.

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