#056 I Am Death

We arrived as quietly as the night at the burning building. Flaming asbestos was raining down like thick flocks of snow. I dismounted my horse and remained silent as it burned holes through my coat, then sizzled into my skin. I stuck my tongue out and tried to catch the flakes; they tasted like crumpling lungs, dry with smoke.

A phrase came to mind: 'We commit this body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.’ I wiped my hand across the floor and sucked my long, boney fingers clean. Oh, how delicious death could be.