When it is over she slips into his abdomen with a final gasp of air and I let out a terrible sob. He stands there for a few 0 Day without sarcasm shirt more, shivering with excitement, until his eyes finally roll back into their sockets from some impossible space in his head. I have given up trying to understand him, but I’m beginning to suspect he’s bigger on the inside than the outside, and that there’s room enough in there for me and others to spare. He offers a thin-lipped smile before turning to the open door. He is thoughtful. This is a very strange place,” he says, possibly to me but maybe to no one in particular. “No one will eat with me. But you eat with each other. I see it. But no one will eat with me.”
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It takes them three days to stabilise her and I am there the whole time. Sometimes I wonder if he returned the right person. I imagine it likely he can’t tell 0 Day without sarcasm shirt apart, or if he can he doesn’t care. But then I sometimes catch a light of reflection in her eyes that convinces me this is my sister, even if her skeleton has been reduced to two-thirds its original height, every hair singed off, and her skin thinned to a translucent sheet. She hasn’t spoken. The police have questions but I have no answers. At least they let me visit her. I love her, even if I never liked her. Besides, no one has ever deserved a fate like this. They say they will be able to graft most of her lost skin but they are baffled as to the full extent of what happened. So am I, I tell them. She is diminished in every sense of the word, and as far as the neurologists can tell her brain is riddled with lesions the size of almonds.