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“I think of the festering wound in my side. Of the bullet that tore in there. The strange chill, the seeming blunt force, of that initial impact, That instantly became a lump of fire churning my insides, Of the hole it made in my other side, where it flew out and tugged my hot blood behind it. Of the barrel it was blasted out of. Of the smooth trigger. Of the eye that had me in its sights. Of the eyes of the one who gave the order to fire.” — Han Kang

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I think of the festering wound in my side. Of the bullet that tore in there. The strange chill, the seeming blunt force, of that initial impact, That instantly became a lump of fire churning my insides, Of the hole it made in my other side, where it flew out and tugged my hot blood behind it. Of the barrel it was blasted out of. Of the smooth trigger. Of the eye that had me in its sights. Of the eyes of the one who gave the order to fire.
— Han Kang