Editorial note: the concept in this short story is very graphic and disturbing, even to me, and even as a work of pure fiction. Read at your own risk.
If this story shows up as some form of fiction somewhere, beware. She is still out there. And she is still hungry. And this is as real as it gets.
It just seems so absurd but until this moment, it never really hit her. She just never thought about her routine, the streets, the buildings. She suddenly looked around at the hundreds of tall buildings, the shortest of which typically have at least ten floors, and the rooms.
so sore. What did I do yesterday? I can’t really remember, but I’m so stiff. Did I exercise? Every muscle is sore.
We almost lost your daddy a year ago. We're celebrating that he's still with us.
“Judy and I were just talking; dad is…well, we’re at his funeral, and mom is…she’s just not…”
She's hardly an engineer, but it seems like an incredible machine, beautifully constructed, well organized. The accident that exposed it would have been a blessing for her to see such a marvel, but she certainly didn't expect to see it in her arm.
Ugh, I don't want to get up yet.
“I hope you are hungry,” he says from the kitchen. “We will be having Pasta Fagioli al Forno, with a nice antipasti salad, and home-made garlic bread.”
He wonders how long it has been, and what is happening. He moved away from the wall, as his skin is becoming red and itches where exposed to the salt for too long. A thump startles him