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By Jay Lake

  • Markus Selvage has been bent by way of existence, floor up and spit out back. In San Francisco's darkest sexual underground, he's a perpetual blameless, having a look inside of our bodies — his personal and others’ — for the misplaced secrets and techniques of pride. yet severe physique amendment is barely the start of the place he'll move earlier than he is finished...

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The place had they parted methods? Had she sought after in basic terms to monitor him be sliced away? similar to Momma, he suggestion. similar to Momma, push the entire discomfort on another individual. “Come close,” he whispered, slipping his fingerglove loose, “and kiss me tight. ” She glanced on the needle. “Later . . . ? ” “Later? ” Later. existence used to be filled with laters. He sought after now. Markus driven himself clear of the desk. considering his mom, he went to his room, locked the door, and masturbated, letting the needle poke his dick and his groin again and again until eventually he handed out from blood loss with no ever cumming, wondering—until his suggestions grew too dim—what had ever occurred to Sail Selvage. ζ: Love during steel “Love is a fountain,” he says. His voice has lower back. “It pumps and pumps and provides and offers, with out restrict, forever. ” The machines don't resolution him. A gurney squeals within the hallway, bearings clogged with pubic hair shavings or the threads from previous bandages. The others on his ward breathe their ragged refrain. “Love isn't really a mistake,” he tells his fellow breathers. they're nonetheless human, he presumes, sole and solitary inside their flesh, excepted from his heart-armor of invulnerability. he's extra. The blade that's his left hand strikes, twitching with a existence likely of its personal. A column of flesh and bone is sure to it just like the wrapping on a hilt, finishing in a syringe, his first and someway most sensible turn into what he has turn into. The window frames rattle, air strain relocating outdoors, the breath of the area matching his breath. He sees the acoustic tile within the ceiling, wiring conduit stapled from side to side just like the tubing which would hold blood from one physique to a different. He sees the flickering of overhead lighting fixtures, became down for the evening, simply brilliant sufficient to maintain the nurses from tripping as they move the bulking machines which envelop the demise. He sees the light glow of the machines round him, eco-friendly and purple constellations, site visitors lighting fixtures for the departing souls. Markus has watched adequate souls go away, although now not but his personal. Now, choked with gears and circuits and comforting shafts of chilly, not easy steel, surgical bolts in his joints and wires in his musculature, he has armored his soul opposed to harm, opposed to harm, opposed to departure. he's able to face what has turn into of Danni’s soul. At that suggestion, at that second, he starts off to retch, coughing and choking until eventually vomit comes forth, tiny fragments of steel damn to the ground together with his bile and his mucus, the coils in his head unwinding until eventually the nurses come working, through orderlies and technicians and finally a physician, the mass of white-coated knowledge deciding upon during the pan and marveling on the vivid sharpnesses he appears generating ceaselessly from inside of till he threatens to flood the room and drown all of them in razor cuts and slowly, slowly, with each one cough and muscle tearing, he recollects what he has performed. What has turn into of Danni. “Love is a fountain,” he attempts to inform them, yet his mouth is stuffed with steel shavings and servomotors.

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