The Doctor Warned Us

When we visited she lay in bed, her favourite childhood stuffed toy, the worn out almost furless Wolfy, resting next to her. Even though we knew it was coming, it was still a surprise when bits of her started to disappear. The tip of her nose. A pinky finger. Those flaps that once hung under her arms. As she dwindled Wolfy grew. Her left eye. Her right breast. Both knees. He crowded the pillow beside her. While she still had lips she was able to speak, but some vocal cords were missing, so the words came in raspy whispers hard to interpret, especially when Wolfy’s throaty growls drowned her out. Her eyebrows. Her eyelashes. Her once lush head of hair. On the final day, we arrived too late. Nothing left, but her nightgown wilted on the bed. Out the window, we glimpsed Wolfy, now plump and plush, disappearing into the woods.