She had a theory that if she never ate or ate never enough she would digress in form. Her body would shrink to fit into the boxes that people put her in, and it would contort to shapes unknown to man. In this way, she could be uniquely beautiful and rarely seen, rarely noticed by the curious onlookers, the pretentious bystanders or simply voiceless friends. The stars would continue shine in their permanent positions as the world revolved with trickery. She would become the forgotten idea that everything seen first has already been seen twice.
Maybe if I don't eat, she decided while staring at the blinding fridge, I will disappear.
And she never disappeared, faded, not ever physically with her frail, spider limbs hauntingly placed in the coffin - but I remember that I can hardly remember her after she was determined to starve.
