I’m alone, stumbling through the city in the dark, trying not to let the night freeze my blood.
Some part of me remembers what snow is, but this is the first time my new mind has seen it. It softens the crumbled sidewalks and turns rusty rooftops white. It’s beautiful. It crunches under my feet as I move toward the house, longing to understan...
You can order yourself to treasure a moment, to cling tight to a feeling and never let it fade, but it’s your brain, that three-pound lump of hamburger, that makes the final call.
Even as I think them, the words lose their context, dissolve into grains of absurdity in the vast ocean of day-to-day hunger.
The ethics of eating people are blurry at best in the fog of my undead amnesia, but I expect more for such a high price. What I want are the moments I will never have. The warm ones. The living ones.
My mind has cleared a little; I’ve regained some instincts and associations, echoes of the Living world if not actual memories. Those I still have to steal.
Maybe eventually winter will finish our job for us and end the world in ice instead of blood.
