Next Deal

This is the deal that you will make with the endless void in the moment of your death: you will fill it with the fruit of your soul, and when you have nothing more to give you will be part of it.

The void is as large as the world and as small as a teaspoon, and at first it does not seem like such a hard thing to fill it. Perhaps you will last longer than your predecessor.

But each infinity is longer than the last, and all things pass through their seasons; you will give and give and give, give up the parts of yourself that don’t matter and then the ones that do, give up endless repetitions of soulless tiles and the most achingly beautiful things you can tear from your heart, bloody with unfulfilled longing—

And someday there will be nothing left to give, and the thing that smiles with your lips as it makes the next deal will not be you in any way that matters.