8:6) chris abraham 02-SEP-97 4:19

Dimpled erotica painted on flesh with needle, wrapped like tentacles along the arm and down the back. Once, my head way held tight during a freedive. By a giant octopus, I shit you not. It took hold and its eight tentacles, each as big as my wrist. The suckers reeled down my arms and bare back. On one breath, I fought it. I used my knife to tickle it away and it disappeared in a cloud of ink.