I clawed the stuff out bit by painful, pink bit, ... until my knife was sunk into the leg bone up past the hilt. It made dreadful scraping noises - I felt like I could feel it in the center of my bones. A passing metaphor to explorers of the deep wilds of Africa does not seem out of place here - there was a definite Heart of Darkness quality to this. How much more interior can you get, after all, than the interior of bones? It's the center of the center of things.
-Julie Powell
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