jason word



Parenthood or Childhood


The parents were first to manifest the new era: their bodies slowly disintegrating into a slurry of silverish liquid. At first, they assumed they were simply too hot, when the streaks of sweat began beading on their bodies. But that liquid continued to drip, until large opalescent streams poured, soaking their skin and clothes, pattering to the bare floors where it collected into an expansive oasis.
    It was a toddler, crawling on hands and knees, who first consumed the substance (babes learn with their tongues). The children discovered this liquid gave new vitality to their bodies and silence to their disquiet. Once the results were known, the older of the young began following the caretakers around with squeaky wheeled carts, burdened by polyvinyl chloride bags, to collect and later consume the precious dribblings. The children pushed and pulled at the old, slowing them down, buying more time to collect. The parents, horrified to be objectified in this manner, eventually became used to the idea of being collected. At night (while the old attempted to recover), the sinister children would run thick tubular lines from the old bodies, into their stomachs, always gnashing their hungry mouths for more.
    The parents continued to deliquesce until they metamorphosed into lean stalks of near imperceptibility. The little predecessors carved (with butterknives) all they craved, until no more remained. The primal pups howled and mocked the parents for their weakness, until the last bird lean bone had been consumed. The children wept over the loss of what had sustained them and then moved on, declaring it natural.
    It was then time for the children to change. Lost became their language and ability to coexist. They screamed and convulsed across the surface of the earth as their black beady eyes withdrew behind their hollow faces, and their mouths (no longer able to find a thing to suckle from) shriveled into miniscule pinholes. Their bodies pulled into themselves until they were nothing but dry urchin-like balls of purple hunger and pain, rolling down chasms, colliding into one another.
    From the once-children’s barbed bulk spilled forth new life. This new life grew, in size and stature, until it took control. It collected the broken bodies that bore it, displaying them among the many other things it had overcome to get where it was.