Ad Infinitum
By: Avery Hunter
The fly, its iridescent green body resplendent in the morning sun, launched with grace into the blue summer sky. Like poetry in motion.
He pulled the axe free from her face, the gaping maw now a window into her head. He thought he could see her brain still twitching and marvelled at its resilience; though her heart must surely have slowed and would eventually stop, and yet the brain still endured.
He unzipped his pants, took what was his, and then waited, silently, until she’d taken her last quivering breath.
At last, he collected his axe, turned, and left without looking back.
She progressed through each stage of mortis until blood pooled where her body touched the ground. Her skin became loose and hung like wrinkled silk. Purge leaked from her nose and mouth as her flesh liquified.
Her slack, blackened skin attracted egg-laying blowflies. Hungry maggots eventually emerged from the eggs and fed on the decomposing form until ready to pupate.
And then on a perfect day, they hatched, struggling into the new day as beautiful bottle-green blowflies.
Like poetry in motion. The fly, its iridescent green body resplendent in the morning sun, launched with grace into the blue summer sky.
-