“You don’t look yourself.”
“I don’t feel myself. Tired.”
“I have just the thing to perk Weaver up!”
I’m handed a large orange. Looks like one of the easy to peel hybrids. I smile as I accept it. I’m quite fond of oranges.
I peel back the first gouge of skin. Blood pools and runs over the open wound of the orange. As strangely warm liquid clings thickly to my arm I look at the exposed flesh.
“Is that… heart muscle?” As I ask the small heart within the orange peel contacts. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I identified what was within the intact orange.
Eagerly I rip into the animal flesh. So sweet and salty with a coppery aftertaste. I know this heart.
It is mine.
At the center of the flesh, snuggled neatly in the wall between ventricles are 6 pomegranate seeds. I was not prepared to find them and they stabbed me sharply in the gum. I spit them out to investigate what had bitten me back, made note of what they were and their number, then tossed them back into my mouth.
My heart. I can not choose what parts of me comes along. This is what I am. This is what I’ll be.
I drink the living blood and eat the defiant flesh. I predate upon myself until all that is left of the prey that I am is strips of blood soaked orange peel. I turn the thick peel over, noting how the surface texture is very much like skin stretched over taut muscle. Then I complete my devouring by eating the peel as well.
My right hand is covered in the blood that escaped from the heart. My heart. I do allow it to dry and it stains my arm from elbow to fingertips.
My eyes close. My Sight opens. I am dead. My heart burns fiercely. My benefactor is disguised but I know kir on a level beyond human understanding.
I smile a carnivore’s grin. Predatory. Unashamed. Ready.
“See. You look better already.”
I feel better.
Feels good to be back.