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The End III

One, two, three, four. She hated the drill at the dentist. Five, six, seven. So much so that they had struck a deal, eight, nine, ten, that she would count to twenty, eleven, twelve, and then the dentist would take a ten-second break. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. It had been a mistake, though. Sixteen, seventeen. Counting up left the door open, eighteen, nineteen, for the dentist to continue drilling, twenty!

Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, as long as he wanted. Twenty-four, twenty-five. And he couldn’t hear her counting, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, anyway. Toothache or not, twenty-nine, thirty, she vowed never to go again.

Music pairing: Teeth by Lady Gaga


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