A man on a bench, wearing a suit.
Sewn on top of his neck is the head of a crow.
He begins to peck himself. His beak penetrates the skin and tears into muscle. The brachioardiall of his right arm is in strips. He continues to snap at the tendons and flesh.
Inside the wound I see three eggs emerging. He vigorously works on his arm again, cross-stitching unidentifiable shreds of flesh.
– Cris O’Connor
Cris O’Connor lives in Bath, England. He was recently longlisted for the Dog Horn Literature Award.
loving the imagery! I’m left wanting more, this piece is really interesting.