She wore a tight black party dress, sleeveless, that only just reaching mid thigh. She was toned and fit; about a foot shorter than me. Black, straigh... hair fell nearly to her shoulders. She stood there looking at me with an odd half smile, and she stared straight into my eyes as I shut the door and walked slowly to her. I leaned down to kiss her. Her hand lashed out and slapped me across the face. I stumbled back, shocked, her hand mark burning on my cheek. She wagged a finger at me. She. Percy could walk, slowly and clumsily, on his four short, stumpy legs, but lying down was difficult for him; he would fall the last few inches to land in his straw with a thump, and standing up again was a matter of scrabbling for purchase with the blunt terminations of his altered arms and legs. Other things had been done to Percy under Helen's scalpel. The ducts draining his eyes into his nose had been widened; now, when he wept – and he probably did still weep on occasion, in despair and. More

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