@chartier
The author Lord Dunsany wrote a very short story on that topic at the time:

THE FOOD OF DEATH

Death was sick. But they brought him bread that the modern bakers make, whitened with alum, and the tinned meats of Chicago, with a pinch of our modern substitute for salt. They carried him into the dining-room of a great hotel (in that close atmosphere Death breathed more freely), and there they gave him their cheap Indian tea. They brought him a bottle of wine that they called champagne. Death drank it up. They brought a newspaper and looked up the patent medicines; they gave him the foods that it recommended for invalids, and a little medicine as prescribed in the paper. They gave him some milk and borax, such as children drink in England.

Death arose ravening, strong, and strode again through the cities.

- "Fifty-One Tales" (1915), by Lord Dunsany

https://standardebooks.org/ebooks/lord-dunsany/fifty-one-tales

#Books #Bookstodon #LordDunsany #Dunsany #FreeEbooks #QuasitBookRecs

Minashi-by-the-Sea (What the Iron-Gray Catkin Saw)

#Wss366

Conclution

Kurotsuki Kaibyō awoke the next morning to the sounds of bamboo flutes and lime wood lyres out in the street. Inside the inn, the whining of merchants denied their morning meal could be heard, for its iron-gray owner had already taken a berth on a ship bound for fair hills #unblighted by Kurosuki’s shadow, and the new owner was nowhere to be seen.

Restlessly, the Stealer of Dreams walked the streets. The smells of roasted lamb skewers, chestnuts fresh from the coals, and overflowing drinks of rum, redolent with the scent of lime, cinnamon, and cloves held no appeal for her, for she had heard Nyarlathotep’s piping and it haunted her like nothing had before.

Still, when the people paraded out of the city to frolic in the orchards on the hills, she made her way to the High Citadel. After casting wary glances to see if anyone was watching, she climbed the walls in a spot sheltered from the Toads of Lang’s view. Then, on silent feet, she jumped to the courtyard and swiftly blended into the shadows of the citadel itself.

It took only moments to slip through the moldering gate that none had dared to maintain in centuries.

What happened then no one knows. But the obscene piping that night grew louder, drowning out the bright bells and lutes of the celebration. The iron-gray catkin whose name might mean “She Who Fled a Doom That Did Not Come” reported seeing something drifting amid the lime blossoms festooning the waters of the harbor. Something that should not have been there. What is known is that Kurotsuki Kaibyō, the Stealer of Dreams, was no longer seen walking on silent feet amid the shadows of doomed dreamers.

#MicroFiction #TootFic #Serial #NMPrompts #NMV366 #Lovecraft #LordDunsany #Pastiche #Cats #Otherkin #Catgirl #Neko