#0042 | metamorphosis
Submitted by Matt in Sacramento, California.
Here’s Matt’s story:
“It was hot on the Fourth of July, nineteen ninety–four. After a hearty breakfast of cardboard box rations and a forest ranger tongue–lashing to wash it down, I was ready to rock once again. Shortly after I set off over the hills and through the woods, I heard a cry for help. It wasn’t a very loud cry. It was like one of those sounds that your belly makes after broccoli pizza, a sound that makes you look around to see if anyone heard. I looked around and almost cried out myself at the sight of a small being thrashing about in the creek.
I ran down to the water, stuck my hand in and pulled out…a legless grasshopper. This little insect was so small and fragile; I had to painfully suppress what over twenty years of instinct had told me: smash it! My brain was on a rollercoaster as I wondered how this little hopper lost its legs. Maybe it was born without legs. The concept of legs could have been so foreign an idea; he/she would have been stumped for weeks at the mere thought of it. If a grasshopper has no legs, would it be called a grass roller? Does it slither, bounce or inch its way along? Is it a slinky?
All at once, my sunburned skin jolted me back to reality and I had a peculiar feeling that something was different. I looked into my hand only to find the grasshopper-slinky gone. I recalled what had just happened and tried, with no avail, to reassure myself that I was not crazy and that grassrollers do not exist. After hours of walking around, I returned to camp only to find everyone packing up for the ride home.
Something strange was happening. Every few minutes, I wouldn’t be able to recognize who the people were around me. After several eternity–sized minutes, I managed to get into a minivan headed for home.
We were talking about firefighters’ shoes and then something exploded inside my head. The radio started emitting a broccoli pizza drone, so deafening that I couldn’t even hear my own screams. My body lurched forward with the sudden stop of the van and the horror–stricken stares of the humans in the car. I looked around at the wide–eyed sculptures that my friends had become. The driver had a strand of spittle reflecting rainbow colors into the air. The colors were so pretty; I made a comment about hues and tints only to find myself inaudible. My mouth had taken on a new shape and multiple parts. I reached up to feel my face only to find my limbs had grown to an incredible length, full of hair and muscle and raw insect power.
I had become the slinky… with legs. The sound of their screams were blocked only by the overwhelming urge to feed. I grabbed the driver’s girlfriend and swallowed her whole. There were fireworks going off as a legless–rolling–broccoli–slinky–pizza voice inside my head said, “Thanks for the help back there.””