It Starts At Midnight.

Frankly, Our Ancestors Don't Seem Much To Brag About. I Mean, Look At The State They Left Us In, With The Wars, The Broken Planet. Clearly, They Didn't Care About What Would Happen To The People Who Came After Them.

Swathed In Silk, I Feel Like A Caterpillar In A Cocoon Awaiting Metamorphosis. I Always Supposed That To Be A Peaceful Condition. At First It Is. But As I Journey Into The Night, I Feel More And More Trapped, Suffocated By The Slippery Bindings, Unable To Emerge Until I Have Transformed Into Something Of Beauty. I Squirm, Trying To Shed My Ruined Body And Unlock The Secret To Growing Flawless Wings. Despite Enormous Effort, I Remain A Hideous Creature, Fired Into My Current Form By The Blast From The Bombs.

Not Like This. He Wanted It To Be Real.

Tick, Tock,” Whispers Wiress. I Guide Her In Front Of Me And Get Her To Lie Down, Stroking Her Arm To Soothe Her. She Drifts Off, Stirring Restlessly, Occasionally Sighing Out Her Phrase. “tick, Tock.” “tick, Tock,” I Agree Softly. “it’s Time For Bed. Tick, Tock. Go To Sleep.

Something Inside Me Twists As I Remember Another Voice. Rue. In The Arena. When I Gave Her The Leg Of Groosling. “oh, I've Never Had A Whole Leg To Myself Before.” The Disbelief Of The Chronically Hungry.