A drop of blood trickled from Kari's forearm.

"Ya feelin' it?" Digger studied her expression, attempting to discern the effect.

"I think so." She looked down at the wound. "It's pretty disgusting."

"Yeah, at first." His eyes rolled somewhat, as he experienced yet another rush.

"But, you know-"

"You get used to it?"

"Right." Kari traced her forefinger along the incision in her arm. "You said you got these in New York?"

"The Village. Some guy."

"Well, where'd he get 'em?"

Digger sat down on the curb. "I think he was Jamaican. Maybe Jamaica?"

"You mean you don't know?" She was starting to feel her first heavy rush coming on. "No," he was suddenly more confident. "I mean Jamaica."

Kari's eyes began to float upward, into her skull. "You mean… you don't know." She said this sleepily, smiling just a bit, and sat down on the curb next to Digger.

Digger's arms were scarred. Less recently by needles-more recently by the blade of a straight razor. They sat there for a moment. Across the street, some kids were playing Frisbee in the parking lot of Smiley's Ice Cream parlor. Digger watched monkeys playing Frisbee, and Kari watched curiously as the kids tossed a human head back and forth. The head would spin so fast that at first she couldn't make out its features. Eventually, one of the boys spun the head on his finger until it came to a stop.

It was Digger's head.

She wasn't bothered by it, but just the same, she glanced leftwards toward her friend for a quick "head" check. All was fine. Digger appeared normal, but for the fact that his hair and eyes had taken on a watery visage.

Some time passed-and the hallucination with it. Digger stood up from the curb and started pacing. Nervousness, it seemed, was a side effect.

Kari glanced down at her arm, once again hypnotized by the activity. "Hey Digger, how do you get 'em outta there?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, do ya scrape 'em out or what?"

He shook his head. "Nah, nah, ya just leave 'em."

"What?" She began to scrape them out, only now realizing just how many there were. "Hey, hey don't do that. It'll just make it itch. They'll all die in a couple a' hours." Kari was scared. How could she have been so stupid? The gash in her arm had stopped bleeding and the wound was now clotted with them. For the first time she could see what they were up to. The insects, dozens of them had burrowed right into her flesh.

In a panic she snatched up Digger's straight razor, just in time to hear him hit the ground. Thud! Kari looked up to find Digger, lying in the street, unconscious, maybe dead. His head was seeping blood from a split near his temple as well as from his ear. And when she looked close, she could see that the dark red stream was pulsating-alive with insects.

Kari looked down at her forearm-and then to the razor.