willowmoth’s Reviews > Bat Eater and Other Names for Cora Zeng > Status Update
willowmoth
is on page 163 of 304
"...one moment she'll be everything all at once, the next she'll be in pieces too small to be human, not even worth saving."
— Oct 04, 2025 06:02PM
4 likes · Like flag
willowmoth’s Previous Updates
willowmoth
is on page 268 of 304
"Many people think the death is the end. The ending of pain, of hate, of love.
But these things are not so easy to erase. Any kind of wanting leaves a scar. The living are good at forgetting, the years smoothing out memories until all the days of their lives are nothing but rolling planes of sameness. But in Hell, it is always just yesterday that everything was lost.
The dead do not forget."
— Oct 04, 2025 10:07PM
But these things are not so easy to erase. Any kind of wanting leaves a scar. The living are good at forgetting, the years smoothing out memories until all the days of their lives are nothing but rolling planes of sameness. But in Hell, it is always just yesterday that everything was lost.
The dead do not forget."
willowmoth
is on page 234 of 304
"Cora's face feels hot and she realizes she probably needs a tetanus shot or something after being scratched by a wild bat..."
A tetanus shot? Girl, you need a rabies shot. C'mon now... 😂
— Oct 04, 2025 09:38PM
A tetanus shot? Girl, you need a rabies shot. C'mon now... 😂
willowmoth
is on page 52 of 304
"Of course nothing adds up, your mind is a labyrinth and you are lost inside."
— Oct 04, 2025 04:46PM
willowmoth
is on page 44 of 304
"On the fifteenth day of the seventh month, a door opens.
The starving dead crawl out, mouths full of dust, and reach for a home that has already forgotten them.
Their stomachs scream for food, but their tongues are heavy and dry, their necks as thin as needles. They lick the tears of the living from the dirt, and sometimes, it is enough to sate them.
But sometimes, the hunger only yawns wider."
— Oct 04, 2025 04:33PM
The starving dead crawl out, mouths full of dust, and reach for a home that has already forgotten them.
Their stomachs scream for food, but their tongues are heavy and dry, their necks as thin as needles. They lick the tears of the living from the dirt, and sometimes, it is enough to sate them.
But sometimes, the hunger only yawns wider."
