Passing into His Mouth

The dense shadows of the poorly lit room dive into the vast creases of the man’s wrinkled skin as he lays confined to his bed. Only a thin strip of murky light is available to highlight his rumpled brows and clenched eyes, the tears that had hardened to form a crusty glue at the symphysis of his lash-less lids. The sheets, threadbare and irrevocably stained with a blotchy mixture of saliva, mucous, and vomit, infect the room with the sour odor of rotting milk. Unable to digest the rank stench of imminent death, the once ebullient plant on the windowsill curls inward and finally withers into a crispy heap of matter.

Stagnant particles of air laden with dust wander with listless desire into the faint beam of light, becoming visible just before disappearing into the shadow-world beyond or simply deciding to settle into the substantial creases of chaffed lips and agonized eyes. Shriveled skin cells, refined insect wings, pulverized bits of hair from both human and creature, specks of feces: suspended in air, riding the raspy flow of air into the brittle lungs of a dying man.

A hollow cough.

Eyelids peel open.

He chokes on his own saliva, bracing himself for another puddle of vomit on a carpet and bed sheet already burdened with enough filth. The dry retching ceases, but the heaving persists, congealing his heart into an object both frail and rigid, like once-flexible molten glass turned stiff, immobile, fragile. The air sacs of his lungs strain to absorb oxygen, but only succeed in crumbling under the weight of grime.

Hands grapple for life, unclipped nails digging into the threads of the mattress as his eyes widen to absorb the image of the last place he will ever inhabit. Sweat slides coolly and effortlessly down his brow and slinks beneath his eyelids. Suffocated by his lolling tongue and blinded by the stinging brine of sweat, he blinks furiously to focus on the approaching figure—an impossibly old being, decomposing to the bone. Its starry eyes remain intact, however, slicing through the shadows.

The figure’s rotting lips stretch kindly as the man’s body clenches one last time, leaving the toes splayed, the tongue curled toward the throat, the heart frozen, the eyes watching with awe as its mouth expands with the exploding force of the universe, taking him into soothing velvety shadows as he melts away.