The Mouth Of Her Dog, Black And Fat, Swarmed With Flies And Worms, Opening And Closing Around A Lattice Of Blue Veins, And It Sounded Like A Steam-Engine.

It looked happy enough, though, and would leap into the little girl's arms.

With a command-click of her tongue, the dog's jaws would open and a cloud of insects would rush out and wash out her face. Instant organic disguise. Criminal-video face-fashion for those on the move.

She called it, "Dad."