He takes a deep drag on his cigarette and returns again to the gruesome specterof my wounds, like a depraved connoisseur admiring a piece of fine art...."You're bleeding," he continues. "We can't have that." I gasp slightly, shuddering at my growing ability to read his sadistic thoughts.A large cloud of cigarette smoke wafts from behind, and then an interminableperiod of silence follows. His cigarette holder is so long, it juts over myshoulder. When it disappears, I almost shit myself. Again,. I also enjoy reading your comments, so feel free to tell me what you thought of the story, or what’s on your mind. Thanks for reading! ***Bret*** I was a second year graduate student, when I traveled to western Amazonas, Brazil to collect mayfly specimens for my graduate project. I was part of a group of researchers looking to make our discoveries in this remote corner of the world. We had met in the capital of Brasilia where we took a crash course in rainforest survival and then signed our. More

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