I was jogging down the cobblestone sidewalk outside my house when it all began.

A sudden explosion of pain in my groin, like I had been cute hard in the nuts.

I doubled over, the nerves in my jaw twitching, as stars turned to my vision hazy.

What the fuck? Had I stumbled it made my balls not together somehow?

No. I imagined two glassy marbles swinging through the air and crashing into each other with

such force. It made them crack open like eggs. I could almost feel the yolk trickling down my thighs.

Fuck. That imagery fit perfectly with the agony emanating from my gonads and overwhelming waves.

An agony so intense it made me hurl the remnants of last night's dinner all over Mrs.

Abernathy's neatly trimmed hedge. I walked back home, bolegged, like a fucked up giant crab.

The pain didn't subside. Not nearly as soon, or as much as I would have wanted, it lingered.

Throbbing like a pulsating vein, sending shocks of suffering coursing through my body.

Ice packs, pain killers, some good old rest, nothing seemed to help.

I spent the day covered in sweat, teeth gnashed to the point of breaking.

My coworker thought I was nuts. I didn't know how to tell them that the problem was my fucking nuts.

Time floats slow and thick, like molasses. Each tick of every clock I saw seemed to carry a hint of rust.

By the time I came back home from the office, my thighs felt raw, like they'd been shaved with sand

paper till the skin started to peel. It was impossible because I had kept them as far apart as I

could without looking like a sex offender, yet my crotch was damp with sweat. It looked like I had

pissed myself. I hadn't. Any attempt to force urine out of my now reddish penis was met with a

burning pain. Felt like acid was flooding my urethra. And the worst of all, my balls were starting

to swell. When I first spied them in the office washroom, I dismissed the swelling as the natural

result of an injury. An injury I thought would heal with time, but when I saw them again back at

...