By Catherine Crouch
I wake. All is dark. I oaf now, I fear. Body so large. To consume and consume. To live. To die.
Hind legs only, it seem. Where did fronts go? Is me only this, now? Scary scary to move. It is like birth, again. World is all new. Oh, oh, oh. This is a strange and cruel form.
One of the other Big Ones waves at me. In past he would predator. In his face now I see nothing. No potential, no future. Just slog till death, in this system. Entrapment. We are all stuck. Stuck until candle burns to pile of wax.
Not know what to do. Could anything. Could sticky sticky sweet sweet licky lick. Could claw scratch pee on feet. Might rebel. Might revolt. Will feel.
Today unknown. But oh, tomorrow mine. To be free is to be supreme. Ah. yes. World mine.