at 7%, pain was a simple toggle switch.
after 17%, she stopped the mighty nile and the
rabbit died a horribly excrutiating death.
slipping the lunar noose off her neck, she left all
that blood behind without looking back.
there was so much more to do.
by 30%, men no longer howled after the remaining flesh. by 42%, the women stopped too; there was precious little left to grope on the crowded subway press home.
50% came and went unceremoniously. she had scooped out
two lovely brown eyes that went on forever. clever plastic
miracles, now, that let her see the rings of saturn unaided.
she only blinks to make a point.
60%, 67%, 68% ... no need to eat, no need to sleep. in fact,
when distracted, she sometimes forgets to breathe. what does it matter? while still in single digits, her friends
never once mentioned it. no one knew, she figured.
they never notice anything, really.
by 28%, they stopped coming
at all.
ran home with shiny new ears at 45%. bounded in to a
cold grey apartment and found her cat, fritz, dead from
starvation on the windowsill. over and over, all she could
think was: cat on a windowsill, what a cliche. went out that
night to celebrate with new friends, all with shiny new ears
like hers.
too many maggots wriggling about and fritz falls off at
53%. she is having a party and all her friends crowd
around the cadaver. by now, no one can smell, so they
play games with the meat throughout the night.
at 76%, she learns to fly. she flies home and smashes all
the mirrors.
the roaches and rats fascinate her. unafraid now, they
come out at night and carry fritz away.
wakes to find one at work on her arm. red eyes and wet
whiskers. reaches over and strokes it. it pauses at
first, then burrows back to feed. tiny jaws smacking
loudly in the dark, easing away the last few remnants.
closer and closer, she reaches 80% by dawn.