Devonian Blues
By Sam Virzi
For the first five years of its existence, the charophycean stares at the shoreline and masturbates. It collects its semen in big gametophyte berry-bombs. When they become too heavy, the charophycean drops them under the photic zone like milky tears and raindrops. Below the surface, little bugs dart around, feasting on them as they fall. After a few lightless meters, the bombs burst and spread little half-charophyceans to the currents. The young find other young, couple, breathe into each others' mouths for sustenance and float up to find the light. Their lives are spent mourning this decision.
The charophycean sees red algae eating green algae and knows the end is near. It quails at the thought of teeth and lysosomes, and looks skyward for an answer. Clouds wander over it in obscene shapes. The charophycean sighs as the shadow of one covers the sun. A fish breaks the surface and swallows eight million of its comrades in one breath. Every stomata sheds a tear. The babble along the surface quiets in respect.
It hatches a devious and subversive plot. The charophycean begins, nanometer by nanometer, to migrate towards where the waves break. It makes conversation with its neighbors and hopes that none of them ask anything specific. It gets by on style and smiles alone. At night others of its kind sleep and it tiptoes between the doorjambs of cell walls. The charophycean feels a sting of pride which is actually Turger pressure.
A wave pulls it below the surface. The next year is spent in the undertow. Archaebacteria swim around and make obscene jokes about cellulose. Waves bring them in and out until the charophycean's existence becomes a cycle of sand and shallow protists. The charophycean tries to explain how these things are impossible, but the two are carried away before it can fully describe its situation. The charophycean feels heat through the sand and the water. It realizes it is on the verge of orgasm and readies a ciliary Kleenex.
Bored and distracted, the charophycean feels wave after wave on the sand below it and passes the time by counting them. It realizes that the count exceeds the number of base pairs in its DNA and decides to invent a new hobby. It begins weaving a basket. When it finishes, the charophycean realizes that the weight of the ocean decreased while it wove. It looks up towards the sky and sees a white cloud gyrating above the surface and the sun squinting beside it, bent and distorted by the sea. When it creates its national anthem, the charophycean will remember these things.
The tide rolls back and the charophycean gets its first clear look at the ocean it's left behind. The charophycean sees a break in the surface as a glassy eye stares at its soul. Panicked, it crawls up the beach.
High tide returns, and the moon rises above the charophycean's head. It climbs between two grains of sand and feels safe for the night. It smells food in the beach, rich nitrogen somewhere in the distance, fresh air along with it. It looks over its sand-bed towards where the waves are breaking. It sees nothing but air and soil. Tomorrow, the charophycean will learn how to stand up.
The sea lifts the basket from its sleeping hands. A fish notices it half-buried in the sand and swims towards it. It loops a protofin into the handle and collects colorful rocks inside. Other fish admire its creativity as it arranges the rocks into arrows. These arrows point to the shore.
- - -
Sam Virzi is a student at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst. You can read more stuff of his at Outcry, Thieves Jargon, Dogmatika, Cherry Bleeds and Unlikely Stories. He'd like to thank his family and friends for their endless support.
By Sam Virzi
For the first five years of its existence, the charophycean stares at the shoreline and masturbates. It collects its semen in big gametophyte berry-bombs. When they become too heavy, the charophycean drops them under the photic zone like milky tears and raindrops. Below the surface, little bugs dart around, feasting on them as they fall. After a few lightless meters, the bombs burst and spread little half-charophyceans to the currents. The young find other young, couple, breathe into each others' mouths for sustenance and float up to find the light. Their lives are spent mourning this decision.
The charophycean sees red algae eating green algae and knows the end is near. It quails at the thought of teeth and lysosomes, and looks skyward for an answer. Clouds wander over it in obscene shapes. The charophycean sighs as the shadow of one covers the sun. A fish breaks the surface and swallows eight million of its comrades in one breath. Every stomata sheds a tear. The babble along the surface quiets in respect.
It hatches a devious and subversive plot. The charophycean begins, nanometer by nanometer, to migrate towards where the waves break. It makes conversation with its neighbors and hopes that none of them ask anything specific. It gets by on style and smiles alone. At night others of its kind sleep and it tiptoes between the doorjambs of cell walls. The charophycean feels a sting of pride which is actually Turger pressure.
A wave pulls it below the surface. The next year is spent in the undertow. Archaebacteria swim around and make obscene jokes about cellulose. Waves bring them in and out until the charophycean's existence becomes a cycle of sand and shallow protists. The charophycean tries to explain how these things are impossible, but the two are carried away before it can fully describe its situation. The charophycean feels heat through the sand and the water. It realizes it is on the verge of orgasm and readies a ciliary Kleenex.
Bored and distracted, the charophycean feels wave after wave on the sand below it and passes the time by counting them. It realizes that the count exceeds the number of base pairs in its DNA and decides to invent a new hobby. It begins weaving a basket. When it finishes, the charophycean realizes that the weight of the ocean decreased while it wove. It looks up towards the sky and sees a white cloud gyrating above the surface and the sun squinting beside it, bent and distorted by the sea. When it creates its national anthem, the charophycean will remember these things.
The tide rolls back and the charophycean gets its first clear look at the ocean it's left behind. The charophycean sees a break in the surface as a glassy eye stares at its soul. Panicked, it crawls up the beach.
High tide returns, and the moon rises above the charophycean's head. It climbs between two grains of sand and feels safe for the night. It smells food in the beach, rich nitrogen somewhere in the distance, fresh air along with it. It looks over its sand-bed towards where the waves are breaking. It sees nothing but air and soil. Tomorrow, the charophycean will learn how to stand up.
The sea lifts the basket from its sleeping hands. A fish notices it half-buried in the sand and swims towards it. It loops a protofin into the handle and collects colorful rocks inside. Other fish admire its creativity as it arranges the rocks into arrows. These arrows point to the shore.
- - -
Sam Virzi is a student at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst. You can read more stuff of his at Outcry, Thieves Jargon, Dogmatika, Cherry Bleeds and Unlikely Stories. He'd like to thank his family and friends for their endless support.
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