“Slave” she sighed “Do you own a pair of scissors?” “Yes Mistress”, I replied.“And do you have the mental capacity to know how to use th...m?” she asked.“Yes Mistress” I answered.“Then why,” my mistress demanded “are you toe nails so fucking long?”I hadn’t realized they were but thought back and calculated that it had been over a week since I had trimmed them. “I’m sorry Mistress”, I said apologetically.“That,” she stated “will be ten lashes”.I assumed my position on all fours with my face to the. The situation was stabilizing. There was no way to determine who had lived and who had died, or how many of each there were. Survival seemed impossible, 110 stories of concrete, steel, glass, and office furniture imploded on itself and collapsed into the ground… who could survive that? The realistic estimated the fatality rate to be in the high-nineties percentile, if not 100% altogether. Somehow, I unglued myself from my seat and TV to go to class. I felt almost sacrilegious doing so, but the. More

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