food

I loved my mummy. When I died, she cut me up in strips and dried me out under the pallid and paltry sun. And then, hung over a wet spitting fire augmented my lightly marbled sacrament of self with a smoky ashen flavor. Bite by bite, bit by bit I nourish her body and I keep her whole. She carries me until the end of time.

Iris, 2072-2081