I once bought a silk scarf for 99p. I wrapped it around my head, to protect the edges of my hairline from fading away.
I woke up, and it was gone…
Crow returned around lunchtime, boasting how amazing the silkworms that made my new scarf were delicious. He offered me one, I declined.
That night I went to bed and laid my head upon a cotton covered pillow. It was a sleepless night; I longed for the softness of silk to wrap me up with its delicate hold. I know it’s cruel to want something that was not made for me.
I woke up and at the foot of my Queen-sized bed, lay the head of a man I once called twice a week. Crow seemingly had been dancing on his nose for some time, as his tiny claw marks seemed deeper around the eyes but more expansive on his chin, than any other part of his previously handsome face.
Worms moved in and out of his fleshy neck, ‘Not silkworms Unique, only maggots!’ said Crow.
His sapphire eyes glinted in the morning sun, and he asked me if we could buy a new freezer?
I replied, ‘Crow, my dear, the day you stop surprising me with random pieces of people, I’ll buy you a new freezer.’ He dug his beak into the right eye of this body-less person and squawked, ‘But I love life!’
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