Lina Marie Mathiassen

Bio

The constant droning of flies whirring around, in and out. They lay their eggs inside. Growing, waiting, thriving. Hundreds of larvae all feasting on flesh. Festering, oozing, squirming. Their small mouth, eating away little by little, growing each passing day, eventually pupating into new flies. New flies that can lay their eggs inside. Rotting, lingering, yearning.