Άννα Morta ⛧⛧⛧’s Reviews > Being Dead > Status Update

'Their bodies had been swept away, at last, by wind, by time, by chance.'

'But death does not discriminate. All flesh is flesh.'

The story unfolds like a rushing tide, simultaneously tender and unrelenting.

'Her hair was matted with wet blood and the syrup of her brain.' 💀🧠

This is poetry of decomposition. Love it! 👏

'They were, we are, all flesh, and then we are all meat.'

Thanks to Berengaria for the book recommendation. 💀👏