psychological horror

When Mira was small, her mother never said I love you. She said, Finish your plate. She said, Don’t waste what feeds you. Years later, when her mother’s body thinned to transparency, Mira began cooking for her. At first, she thought it would save her. But hunger, she learned, was not a thing you filled. It was a thing that filled you. After her mother’s death, Mira cooks to remember. When her own blood drips into the pot and she tastes it, she finally understands what her mother meant. The more she feeds, the hungrier she becomes. (A lyrical horror story about inheritance, consumption, and the hunger that devours love itself.)