The Vanishing Point of Desire

How does this writer, Vi Khi Nao, even exist? She puts herself on a wood stove. Stretches her fingers. Stretches her back. Stretches her toes. She reaches out to the cutting board. She places herself on the cutting board. She slants herself on the cutting board. She lifts the hammer. She lifts it high. As high as her eyebrows. She lifts her skirt up. She lifts her skirt with the unused hand. She lifts it up for the view. She lifts the skirt. She lifts the hammer. The hammer falls... Wait: correction. With a hatchet. She takes herself apart with a hatchet. She puts herself on the wood stove....