Tropic Death

He paused, and gathered up the blind member. “Isn’ t this a hell of a case fo’ yo’ , sah?” A curve of flesh began to peel from it. Pree-pree-pree. As if it were frying. Frying flesh. The nail jerked out of place, hot, bright blood began to stream from it. Around the spot white marl dust clung in grainy cakes. Now, red, new blood squirted—spread over the whole toe—and the dust became crimson...FROM THE BOOKS.