I still cannot see myself in the mirror. Now, I cannot see myself at all. I cannot see my hand, legs, or body. I can feel that my body is constantly changing. Sometimes I feel like I have eleven arms, now two arms, eighty-one legs, seventeen spines, eight hundred seventy-eight heads. The number of body parts fluctuates from moment to moment. As more time passes, the fluctuations speed up.
It has been twenty-seven months since I carved the damned hole into my forehead and put that paper in me. Nothing special has happened and I have not seen the maggot. It’s avoiding me. I know it. Twenty-seven times, I’ve called out to it in my dreams. I know it’s hiding in a number that does not exist anymore. I must travel back in time twenty-seven times to rediscover this number. It will not hide from me; I’ve come too far to give up this experiment.