I held my breath and tried desparately not to move. Each time I shifted my weight or made any movement, the scorpion's legs dug into me like pins.
The scorpion kept trying to sting me, but each time its stinger reflected off my thumbnail.
I knew it was just a matter of time before I had to move. When I did, I knew the scorpion would crawl down my hand freeing its stinger to find unprotected flesh.
I noticed there was a small chip in my front incisor. I kept working the rough edge of the chip with my tongue. Eventually what I thought was only a small crack expanded and the whole front section of my teeth separated from my gums.
I looked at myself in the mirror and was greeted by a hideous toothless hairless wrinkled face. I tried to speak but could not make a sound through my gums.
I was in the office of a dentist. This was the same dentist my parents had avoided selecting for my bridge work when I was a teenager.
The dentist remarked that he had never seen a case like mine, but he had talked to one of his colleagues and was willing to try to reattach my teeth. I knew that I should try to leave. This guy did not know what he was doing. But I was already strapped into the chair.
The dentist placed the plaster in my teeth to make the mold, and I almost wretched. It was like eating plaster. His hygenist kept packing gauze in my mouth. I couldn't breath. I began to suffocate.
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