Liner Notes on Al Karpenter / Greatest Heads
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I breathed in a few times, short and sharp, activating the diaphragm. Then I slid the device out of its cover. Black vinyl wires spewed from the edges, wiggling spiders’ legs. A canister was tucked under an inch wide recess on the left. The connecting cap, loose, leaked a gluey white liquid. An accelerant, or igniter. Priority, clamp that in place. Inside, a smaller chamber that opened with a thunk. Two metal chips held a scrawl of cables, broke off. No retreating now. I thought of our trainer. Our role is to cut at the joints, she'd said, the right ones at the right time.
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