The juice came alive in his throat, exploding against his voice in an exquisite burst of acid flavour, resulting in a gentle "ahhhh....".

What is forbidden is magical, he thought as he sawed into his midriff with the palette knife. His blood warmed his legs, pumping with gleeful abandon like a waterfall of life. After a little more sawing, he dropped the knife and grasped a gory handful of himself, yanking it from his body in a shower of blood spatters and snapping sinew.

With his other hand, he raised the apple to his mouth for another bite.

"How sweet art thou seed," he whispered. Staggering into the bathroom, he crashed to his knees. The menacing glow, peeking from the toilet bowl, made him smile. He lifted the lid and gazed down into the evil eye that lurked, flaming, in the u-bend.

Another bite.

"So fucking good..."

He tossed the gory mass into the toilet. "There's your pound. I would gladly pay another."

Then he collapsed to the floor and the half-eaten apple rolled from his twitching fingers. The eye pulsed and devoured. The apple dissolved slowly into its true form; his wife's heart, three ragged bites taken from it.