I lay motionless in the bathtub. The faucet has long sealed shut. My body is coated in vines and scuttering insects. They burrow into my flesh and they feed on my marrow. They have found a use for what is no longer needed by the world. Moss and mold surrounds my mouth, and the taste is acrid and acidic. A thick stream of brackish water flows from my nose. I am the origin of all life in the room. I am the garden of eden.