“It’s not a pimple,” I answer matter-of-factly, reaching for my toiletry bag on the shelf. Lily tries to stand, but I hold her in place where I can see it stewing. Seething for being found early.
How Did I not see this coming? physical involvement with a vile PARASITE simply had to be a part of the story.
Is it a vile botfly? Aargh
