noteface

She's sitting on a pile of white bones. Bright, bright white like Hollywood teeth. They are long and thin bones like arms and legs: A spider of bones beneath her. She looks very lovely sitting up there on her throne of stripped bodies. It makes you want to lay your hands over her eyes and maybe a third over her collarbone if you had three hands.

It doesn't look like she's doing anything but you can hear crunching. Or cracking. You can hear the breaking of bones. It's almost as if the bones are breaking themselves - yet you know it's her by the way she sits on top so unaffected. She's very calm. Not cold. But looking at something in the distance like her own head. Maybe she's picking out next winter's skeleton. She has been sitting there for a very long time.

But then -

On the seventh day, on the seventh holy day a beautiful sight happens. She steps down off the summit of the bones and sinks into the pile. The bones eat her up and the crunching becomes louder. You can't tell the crunching of her bones apart from the others, but you know this is why it's suddenly louder.

And when her body emerges at the bottom, her empty, broken skull is smiling.