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Kathy Bradley
Kathy Bradley
The laser, the neurosurgeon explained, was only slightly cooler than a microwave. It would, in a process that sounded like something out of one of the Isaac Asimov novels in the junior high school library, travel through the needles, through a layer of skin and to the nerves. The nerves would then — as I imagined them — sizzle like a struck match and go out.
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