Coral Hull: Prose: Vegan, Vegas: 62. pow pow pow, all your teeth were directly shot out of your mouth

I MACKENZIE KNIGHT I A CHILD OF WRATH A GOD OF LOVE I FALLEN ANGELS EXPOSED I

CORAL HULL: VEGAN, VEGAS
62. pow pow pow, all your teeth were directly shot out of your mouth

do you need protection?, you reached down into a bag, three bullets fired out successively from different corners of the room, pow pow pow they crossed us in a diagonal, a clamp pressed me into the bed, i thought danger death, no boundaries, no way of knowing the limits, & although you laughed, it could have been a second later, your big white teeth & crinkly eyes, as you pulled out a condom, you said 'it's just a condom', pow pow pow, another three shots & i did not blink, for although you had just said 'condom', i had become stuck on 'gun', the way a conditioned dog will get stuck on the word 'walk', & even after many words later, that dog has not been convinced of otherwise, the dog's confused tension will still be scaling its body, because even when the owner has sat down to watch tv, there have been other indications, such as having the 'park' & 'walk' shoes on, the dog has been programmed to respond, it cannot let go of words like 'walk', as to let it go would mean to be disappointed, would mean to listen to something new & strange, that period of uncertainty in-between letting go of an old familiar concept & of latching onto a new one, i was prepared to let go of 'gun' but the room was dark, we were strangers & i did not know the way out, pow pow pow, all your teeth were directly shot out of your mouth, 'have you really got a gun?' i asked, i could not let go of the fear, the titillation of it, its dead side, this roll in the glitter of glass, this survival in the gutter talk, i could no longer think of love

    

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