"No," Elias said. "Once you break a taboo, it’s broken. You can't unbreak it. You just have to live in the world you made."
"Turn it off, Elias," Mara said, her voice trembling. "This isn't a movie. This is… transgression."
The film began.
As the woman chewed, the perspective shifted. The camera didn't cut; it seemed to dissolve. Suddenly, the viewer wasn't watching the woman anymore. The viewer was the woman. The sensation was nauseating—the taste of iron, the texture of muscle, the heavy, rhythmic thumping of a foreign organ digesting inside a chest that didn't belong to you.