The weight of it was the first of it. The part that held each part of him against all sides and left him limbs heavy like weights. It held him firmly, yet he knew that maybe if he tried, he might be able to move. Yet, as he laid there, not sure if he was actually lying down or just standing without any effort, he knew he couldn't. His mind called out to his arm and it never made an attempt to lift up. A call to his leg, and when that failed, to wiggle his toes. There was nothing.

But something did move, and he thought to open his mouth to already know it was open, bits of earth and dirt inside his mouth resting against his tongue and cheeks. A vine deep inside crawling somewhere midway down his throat.

And yet he didn't feel alarmed. Just full, heavy, and tired.

It was dark here. Cool here. Contained and quiet

And it moved.

You're dying.

The voice was soft and he knew it instantly.

Dying? How?

You haven't moved in so long. You let it happen. Just laid there in the pit you dug and let them come.

They moved. Inside he felt them, twisting through his back and out through his gut and chest. A tear in his chest, a twisting mass eating away his gut.
He was full.

Yet he was empty.

There is so little of you left now. You let them eat you.

He didn't move, feeling them fill themselves, thrive. They were happy, weren't they.

Why do you care about the feelings of worms?

He stared into the darkness.

Is this the only feeling you want now?

He didn't answer but his heart weakly gave a beat to show it was there, half chewed.

They grew fat off of you. You gave them all of you. If you stay in this pit, there won't be anything left.

I'm tired, Saliva. If they eat, at least someone will be happy.

They won't be happy. They will go to another meal. Can't you feel it. Even now.

The soil moved, bits of shifting dirt rolling down his bare body as they tunneled through and away. One by one until he laid there, motionless to stop anything.

Nothing moving, but his heart.

It was quiet again.

Now it was just empty again.

Emptier.

You've been dying for a while now.

somewhere below, he felt the ground shift under him.

I'm not asking you to crawl out from the pit. If you want to be down here, then be down here.

He stared into the dark. Cold. Comfortable. Heavy.
He felt so empty. So tired. He could feel the holes there, gaping wide as dirt slowly sank into them.

I thought the meal would be more satisfying to them.

They savored for years, but there isn't much of you left to pick off.

I have nothing left to give. Who wants to eat on bones now? Who wants rotting meat?

The ground shifted around him, and his back arched as the dirt turned, falling away between his solid limbs.

But now that you're empty, don't you feel it?

The root inside his mouth pulled against the earth, tugging against his cheek before pulling out.

What do you want too?

The soil grew warmer now and as the earth moved, it soon changed to course sand. Tiny shells and bits of sand sliding through him like a turned hourglass.

I want to be full.

Everything was empty.

....Full like them. Full and satisfied.....and how can we do that?

.....eat.....I should probably eat.....something.

Anything....everything....More of it.

All he could taste was dirt. His throat was dirt. His tongue was dirt. His insides were dirt. All the best parts of him were gone.

The sand fell in small little waves and he could feel light shinning into his empty expanse.

He opened his eyes to feel the sky above him and an expanse of light, and the hair grazed through him.

Why was he so -

"I'm hungry."

The sand sank under him and the soft, wet tongue pressed against his back as rows upon rows of teeth grew from all sides darkening the sky, the small sun growing smaller and smaller.


Above as everything went still, he could see a bird pass. It was full too.

Let's Eat!

It went dark, and he gasped as he rose up and grabbed his chest.

Under him, he felt the beach, and he stared out at the ocean rolling back and forth in the dark. Gulping down the night air, he stared out into the coast before leaning back down to where he had passed out on the beach. The sky was a mix of purple and black, and he watched stars grow faint.

And his stomach rumbled.

"Saliva...."


He could feel her stirring.


".......what should I have for breakfast?"