His loose skin was mottled with scars of all kinds. Some smooth, some puckered. Some long, some short. Some dimpled, some gnarled. Some wide, some thin. Some ringed in ripe recent red and others faded to a soft translucence. The little girl covered her eyes with her hands. The man laughed. It was an empty echo of a sound and it scared her enough to cover both eyes with one hand and use the other to grip her necklace. The metal bit into her flesh. She tried to wrap herself around the feeling, pull herself from the contours of her own body and become the stinging pain pearling sharply inside her
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