ROSE A strong green megawatt spotlight of Rum’s concert burst through, illuminating the wound like it was a solo artist on the stage. And the strangest thing happened: red yarns spurted out from the flesh of each end and joined hands, working together, pulling and sucking, to seal up and form a scar. My face shot up, eyes widened with shock at the two shouting ladies, but they couldn't seem to see what was happening. Not even Ellis, who was now screaming like a burning victim. I looked down at the wound: everything that should happen biologically in wound healing with humans is now happening at super speed; it was like watching a video fast forward. And then, it was over. The green light retracted, having done its deed, and Ellis had stopped tossing about screaming, fainted, fallen into a healing slumber. Both women, and myself, stared at the reattached arm in utter disbelief: it looked exactly as it was before. With shaking fingers, and more tears gushing down her face
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