Grandma’s basement is full of jarred and preserved magical creatures! That’s how her cooking was always so scrumptious. When she passed away she probably should have put a warning label on one jar in particular, the one with the smart-looking little caterpillar that loves to eat words…
(reading time: 1 hour, 10 minutes)
There came a time when knowledge turned invisible and raced across the globe. It ran to those who searched for it and was displayed almost offensively. It was called the internet.
Deep under a house, blankets of dust, like permanent foggy twilight, obscured a glass jar. The shadow inside wanted out so badly that it tackled the side and cracked the glass. It wanted out because it sensed, no, smelled, the knowledge flying in the air. The internet called to it like a cartoon pie’s scent trail that tickled everyone’s noses. That one crack… was its last bit of energy. It was too dry now. It shrank, it shriveled, it cracked, and, finally, it fell into a death-like sleep. Not death though, for the jar had no expiration date. Continue reading