Heather Klause knows things other people in Graywater Crossing refuse to see. She sees it in the pricing at the supermarket where she works. She sees it in her daughter's boutique, in her neighbors' small unkindnesses, in the quiet ways the world takes advantage of anyone too polite to notice. Someone has to pay attention. Someone has to protect people. It might as well be her.
Something beneath the lake has been waiting a very long time for a woman exactly like her.
As grievance after grievance goes unreleased, Heather's body begins to obey a mathematics that has nothing to do with food: the mirror lies, the scale fails, the doorways widen to let her through. Her husband's absences start ending somewhere no search can find. Her hometown's roads stop leading anywhere but back to her kitchen table. And beneath a supermarket that no longer measures the way supermarkets should, something ancient sets a single register, and waits for her to finally sit down to the meal she has spent her whole life building.
Only Kalki, final restorer of cosmic order, rides in time to ask her the one question she has never once let herself answer honestly.
The Weight of Hunger is a hallucinatory, ergodic work of weird fiction and cosmic horror - a small-town fable of resentment, appetite, and the specific gravity of a grudge that never gets to rest, told in the cut-up, dread-soaked register of a woman's ordinary certainty becoming something the universe itself has to answer for.