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160 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1999
He was floating in midair, suspended by some sort of invisible field, unable to move as the robotic machinery worked slowly and carefully. First the laser beam tracing the sides of a square, then a robotic arm moving in to peel back the skin.
Starting from his scalp, moving down over his face and neck, across his chest and belly, and then down his legs and feet.
He lost the hair on his head. He lost his lips, his fingers, and his toenails.
There was only one explanation. He was in hell, in purgatory, in one of Dante’s circles, being punished for the wickedness of his life. Punished for stealing from his mother’s purse, for hating his father.
Skinned alive.
Finally, it was done.
Several long minutes passed during which Kubrick waited, eyes squeezed shut, heart pounding. He expected somehow for it to start over again, for the robotic arm to move back to his head and begin again on his scalp. He would be like Sisyphus with his stupid rock, condemned to this one awful experience for eternity.