This big brawny dude looks at me menacingly from across the room. So I look at him. He looks at me. I look at him. He looks at me. I look at him. He looks at me. I look at him.       I notice that he's still looking at me. I feign looking away to see if I can catch him looking at me. He looks at me. I look at him. He looks at me.       I light a cigarette. He looks at me. I look at him. He looks at me. I look at him. He looks at me. I notice that he's looking at me. He looks at me. I look at him. He looks at me.       I notice that I don't smoke and that I don't have any cigarettes and that I have set my index finger on fire and that it has burned halfway down my hand.       He looks at me. I look at my hand. He looks at my hand. We both look at my hand. I look at him. He is still looking at my hand.       I look back at my hand. My knuckle is burning to the wrist. He looks at my wrist. I look at him. He looks back at me. I look at him. He looks at me. I look at him. He looks at me. I look at him.       He almost looks back at me but the pain suddenly hits my dull nerves and I let out a whelp that would down a jet. He looks at me. I look at him. He looks at me. I start to pass out. He looks at me.       I am passing out. He looks at me as I fall to the floor. I fall to the floor. He looks at me. I look up at him. He looks at me. I pass out.       I look at nothing. I look at nothing. I look at nothing. I look at nothing. I continue to look at nothing.       I remain unconscious, looking at nothing. I look at nothing.       I don't know if he's looking at me.

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