There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. – Hamlet (1.5.167-8)

…Her tongue traces the blood along her lip line.

The overwhelming smell of the dead Archaea on the ground is intoxicating. I’m starving. The thing within me stirs. Like a some ancient predator, awakened by the familiar scent of a kill. I remember this feeling from five years ago. I am guessing that I know exactly the state Fiona’s archaea must be in righ...