On the seventh morning, Iris looked down. There was no “down” anymore. Her pelvis had widened into a basin. Her spine was a graceful, arching root. Her heart—still beating, absurdly—rested in a cupped palm of dissolved ribs, pulsing like a ruby in a bowl of cream.
The landlord broke the door down on day ten. He found a fine, dark loam spread across the floor, a faintly sweet smell, and in the center, the clay wheel still spinning. Thanatomorphose.2012.DVDRip.x264-RedBlade
“Thanatomorphose,” she whispered, or tried to. Her tongue had become a small, sweet jam. On the seventh morning, Iris looked down