it boils down until the meat and fat have rendered into a thick liquid. the bone is clean, moist, and empty. the marrow has slowly dripped out of the bone as the heat and pressure slowly dispersed it. the bone is a hard empty relic now, left behind as a memory. the bone, the inner shell of its animal, once strong and powerful as an individual until the world around it cooked it to be just an ingredient of what it ultimately wanted. a deposited memory of what should have been. its society fed on it until its inner self gave up and dripped bit by bit away. a lonely bone left in the bowl after the soup is gone. soon to be fed to the dogs.
