o7/o9 of the high rise illustrations.
of all the dark, uncomfortable moments in that book, this one practically h chokes itself on the cake. we've been following wilder's obsessive accent up the high rise and watched him degenerate along with the ever more decrepit scenery. by the time he finally makes it to the top, he's regressed to little more than a child. he's not the only one up there though- a tribe of knife wielding women have taken up residence in the roof garden and made habit of decorating it with the left overs of tenants who've wondered up there only to be butchered and eaten.
when we last see wilder, he's toddling towards the flock of eager harpies, having mistaken them for his 'new mothers'.
shudder.
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