Hot Close Up. Poor Sound

Eyes that looked at her with compassion, and a tongue that said things as sweet as honey.She’d wait until her acquisition fell asleep, and then in went the needle, quick and easy, the skin accepting it so that only a little dot of blood marked its passing. Then she’d carry the sleeper down to the basement and begin cutting.It took years. Her creation aged in reverse: The more time passed, the closer it came to life, further from death. When the body was done the old, perfect skin had to be attached to it. She spent sleep hours hunched over a table, sewing the skin to its new frame as finely as she could.And once she was done, how to animate it? How to make the skin move and live again? It lay on the slab, pale and perfect, like a statue of an angel, but unmoving and unaware.She remembered the electricity of their touch; maybe the skin would remember too. She shed her clothes and climbed onto the slab, straddling the body between her legs. She laid her skin against it. Kissed its. We spent about five hours driving round to various family members giving them instructions and details of mum's bank account so they could transfer my cash into it, altogether we visited six different families which meant that very shortly there would be fifty four thousand pounds in mum's account.On the way back home I realized that we weren't very far away from mum's uncle, an old and very unsuccessful petty thief who'd spent more than half his adult life behind bars, his son answered the door, a lad called Granville who I remember disliking from the earliest memory I had of him.He looked even shiftier than usual, but let us in to the dingy living room of the even dingier flat he shared with his parents,"Oh hello Annie" Hello Granville" she said brightly, "We've come to see your mum" She ain't in" When are you expecting her back then?" Dunno, probably tomorrow"I moved in front of him, between him and mum,"You know why we've come Granville so please be a little bit more specific" I.
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