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An ounce of prevention or a pound of cure? by Catherine Stewart

It was embarrassing how she’d panic bought when the infection had first hit - two hundred and fifty toilet rolls was far too much for such a small family. She really should have stocked up on food and medicine - stocks were now running dangerously low.

Suddenly, the front door creaked. Apprehensively, she peered round into the hallway and her heart started pounding painfully.

“Dylan! No! No!” She screamed, terrified. “You can’t go outside! Daddy will eat you, if you do! He’s not alive.”

The little boy giggled and stepped over the threshold. His father tore the child’s arm off with his teeth.



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