Anna sat on the ceiling eating the cat.  She’d peeled off its skin and dropped it on the floor where it lay like a silky gray puddle.

Her husband came home from work and looked up at her.  "Why are you eating the cat?"

"I’m hungry."  She popped a kidney into her mouth.

"Okay," her husband said.  He didn’t question her as long as she was happy.  He scooped up the cat skin and put it in the fridge.  Anna liked a neat house.  "What’s for dinner?"

Anna ate one of the cat’s lungs.  "Toast."

They had toast spread with cat skin for supper.  He thought it was a bit too dry but he never complained about her cooking.

"I’m still hungry," said Anna.

"I’ll go shopping," he said.

So he bought a dog and brought it home the next morning.  He’d do whatever he needed to so she stayed happy.  The dog didn’t like Anna but she liked it.

When he came home from work that evening Anna was sitting on the ceiling eating the dog.  She’d skinned it and dropped its hide on the floor. It resembled a dollop of chocolate.

"Is the dog tasty?" her husband asked, hopeful.

Anna ate the dog’s liver.  "Yes."

They had pancakes made from dog skin for super.  Under the deluge of maple syrup they tasted better than toast.

"I’m still hungry," said Anna.

He worried.  What could he find her next? He couldn’t fit a horse through the door.  Their apartment was small. He thought all night and at last came up with a solution.

***

The next day her husband brought his boss home from work.  The boss didn’t like Anna but she liked him.

When her husband finished his shower and came downstairs he found Anna sitting on the ceiling eating his boss.  She had peeled off his skin and dropped it on the floor.  The business suite was as crisp and pressed as ever.

"I hope that fills you up," her husband said, for he didn’t know how to top that.

"Yes."  Anna ate his boss’s spleen.

They had meatloaf made from the boss’ skin.  It needed more ketchup.

Afterwards, Anna didn’t complain of being hungry.  Her husband was relieved and thought now she was happy.

That night he woke abruptly.

Anna sat on the ceiling.  "I’m hungry."

It was too late to shop, plus he didn’t know what to give her.  He thought hard as she watched him, and then he decided.

"Okay," her husband said, and shucked out of his pajamas.  He loved Anna and she liked him.  He wanted her happy.

He floated up to the ceiling and sat next to her.  "What will you do after you eat me and you get hungry again?"

"I’ll remarry," said Anna.

"Okay."

She peeled off his skin and dropped it on the floor.  He thought it looked like a smear of frosting.

"What will you do with that?" her husband asked.

"I’ll make pudding for breakfast," said Anna as she pulled out his intestinal track.

He wished he could taste it.  He hoped it was vanilla-flavored. 

"Are you happy?" he asked.

"Yes."

Then he was happy too.

Anna sat on the ceiling eating her husband.