The misery the rise and fall of his hand deliver is cumulative. From pale as butter to scarlet rash, her flesh ignites as if flames from tinder. It is...a sensation like wrist-twists — snakebites, they called them — those spiteful mangles of wrist-flesh her brother Lewis would peevishly inflict on her when they were just kids. But a Lewis wrist-twist was a singularity, while this is an incessant drum beat, a rhythm laid down by an insane, one-handed percussionist. She sees no end to it. The clap. "AH-HEM, yuck, am I ever dry. Umm, good morning, Josh." Ah, good morning, Karen. Or at least I think it is." Hey, got any coffee on yet?" No. I just woke up myself." Well, while don't you go make yourself useful for a change, while I get an extra thirty winks or so."After what I considered an all too brief kiss to say good morning, Karen rolled away from me and snuggled even deeper into the covers of her bed, as she attempted a return to sleep. And while she lay there, I remained propped up on. More

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