She knew that when she died, her body would be broken down by worms and other insects, and then she’d provide nutrients for the life-sustaining plants aboveground. She thought of her beech tree. She’d rather like to be buried under it, to give it sustenance. And while the tree fed from her, she would feel … nothing. Oblivion. She imagined the nothingness, as heavy and dark as a blanket, or the night sky.
