Memories of her excesses nauseated her as distant roads fell into each other again and again like taffy. At the limit of exhaustion the strong bright structures caved in. She’d always been strenuously on the move by ship, on foot, on horse. Now, alone in her room, her eyes raised indifferently. Yet lying in bed wasn’t boring. Dying became an activity full of lively interest. Just observing her fragility admitted endless variations. As she gained strength she was reborn to appetite and movement.

Another illness followed; it settled in her right side below her ribs lasting all but eight weeks of eight years. Sometimes it struck Margery once a week lasting thirty hours, sometimes twenty, sometimes ten, sometimes eight, sometimes four, sometimes two, so hard and sharp that she threw up. John held her head; her lips drew back from the taste of bile.

Her priest gave her Jesus’s body hidden in bread. Her head tipped back and emitted little groans from the bottom of the throat where her membranes were shores touched by a distant sea. Then Margery cried as if soul and body parted; she screamed as much as it hurt; two men held her arms. Jesus appeared above, a thin cloud behind his bony head looked like it traveled through his ears; his neck was as wide as his face and so beautifully modeled it was also expressive. She saw Jesus turn away; she tasted Jesus restore her from within. People outside heard her: I die, I die.

Jesus looked at her, experimenting with her absence: she pulled in her shoulders, suddenly chilled by the clay she was made of; she held her breath, aroused by her own inconsequence. He told her who would die. Margery covered her ears; she couldn’t believe it was Jesus so he withdrew in exasperation, leaving inordinate lust in his place.

Rabbis, imams, and priests appeared in a grove of huge yews and showed her the tears of pre-come on their erections. Satan thundered (the shock waves hit her chest): YOU MUST CHOOSE WHICH ONE YOU WANT—NO—YOU MUST PROSTRATE YOURSELF BEFORE ALL. Satan had boar fangs and bark-colored skin; his balls were coconuts, hairy and brown, and his cock was knotted to keep it from dragging. Fragrant wild thyme covered the ground and random lights swept across their bodies. Her pubic mound itched—a maddening sharp jabbing. She liked one of the men better than the others. She could not say no; she had to do it; he plunged into her in a hollow tree, her nipples and face grinding against spongy wood, musty and sweet as testicle skin.