And it begins. The itching, like hatchling spiders in her fingers. Hot, fast spiders. Lightening spiders. She tries to quiet them, intently eating a gas station banana, its overripe brown sliding slick and sweet down her throat, but the spiders increased their frenzied scuttling and her fingers grew itchier
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Comments 4
"out out damn spot, one...two..."
:P
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sadly, i worry that "the birds" may have destroyed the creepiness of birds forever.
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