Mother-Machine by Michel Weatherall
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
After reading Mother - Machine…
Because of Christmas...
It was Christmas. I was walking across the vast plain. The snow was like glass. It was cold. The air was lifeless. No movement, not a sound. The horizon was round. The sky black. The stars dead. The moon carried to its grave yesterday. The sun not risen. I screamed. I could not hear myself. I screamed again. I saw a body lying on the snow. It was the Christ child. Its limbs white and rigid. Its halo a yellow frozen disc. I took the child in my hands. I moved its arms up and down. I opened its lids. It had no eyes. I was hungry. I ate the halo. It tasted like old bread. I bit his head off. Old marzipan. I continued on my way.
Mother - Machine tells the story of a hungry man.
Do you prefer eating or sleeping by night? They (the ghouls) prefer to eat!
Inside your stomach a nightmarish supper.
So, eat light next time.
Or, your mother, the first machine from which you eat.
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