Little Pricks

The woman stares into the bathtub full of needles.

She can already feel her throat beginning to close.  In less than half a minute she’ll be unable to breathe.  Tears streaming from her eyes, she sticks her arm down into the needles.  She gasps at the pain of countless needles puncturing her skin.

Her fingers wrap around a large syringe, and she pulls her bleeding arm out of the needles.  She quickly injects the epinephrine into her upper leg, and the tightness in her chest releases.

“Did you like my game?” her son asks innocently from behind her.

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