There once was a young woman named Wynne who woke up to find a bug bite on her shin. It itched, so she scratched. And she scratched and she scratched and she scratched until it bled. She grabbed a tissue and wiped up the blood, but then she went on scratching as hard as she could. Every so often, when the blood dripping down her leg threatened to drip onto the floor, she paused to wipe it some more.

As she scratched, the itch grew itchier and the area that itched grew too. Little by little and inch by inch, she scratched a little bit higher and scratched a little bit lower. Before long, Wynne was scratching from the cap of her knee to the tips of her toes. Blood was flowing all over; her tissue was soaked. She stood up to get another, but the itch took right over. She sat back down and kept at her scratching.

She scratched and she scratched and she scratched until she hit bone. With no skin left on her shin, surely the bug bite was gone, but the itch kept on at its itching. And so Wynne kept on at her scratching.

The itch spread to the back of her leg, so she scratched the back of her calf. When she tore into her muscle, it hurt a bit. But the pain was a relief from the itch, so she kept on at it. When she reached her fibula, there was a horrible screech, like nails on a chalkboard made out of fibula. The itch then grew worse where it had begun, so she returned to scratching her tibia. She scratched this bone with such vigor, that, one by one, her fingernails snapped off.

Wynne had nothing left with which to scratch, but, of course, the itch was only getting worse. With one bony leg, she hobbled to the key hook by the door. While she hobbled, she nearly took a tumble in the pile of flesh and gore. She picked up her keys and held them in her fist like claws.

The itch was still itching, so she sat down and continued her scratching. The sharp metal teeth of the keys provided, at first, some relief, but then the itch began itching beyond all belief. Now her right leg was itchy. And now her back. And then one arm and then the other. And now it seemed like her every cell was itchy. And now, she realized with a start, the itch was the itchiest right in her heart. So she scratched and she scratched and she scratched until she was nothing. At last, the itch stopped.