I. the world after miralon

Page Seven

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But not so much when it came to the Ziza. It was one thing, you know, to ask people to be cautious and sensible about things like rice and asparagus and pancakes. But it was quite a different kettle of fish asking them to be sensible about the pleasures of the sweet Ziza. When folks wanted to eat Zizas, they wanted them quick and they wanted lots. You could test every single fruit on a Ziza tree and maybe not find even one that was safe. Or you could go to the grocer’s and buy fifteen of them, and you might get six or seven that were safe, if it was a good day. And the amount of Zizas that were safe was never enough to satisfy the people who had got addicted to them. One each for breakfast, lunch, supper and bedtime (especially bedtime) was about the smallest number that Ziza-heads could get by on. Whole gangs of people started raising them. Little baby Ziza trees sprang up just about everywhere. Playgrounds, all around public buildings, backyards, and loads of other spots. The plain fact was that humanity just could not get enough unmutated Zizas.

So that’s why a lot of humans still died of the Miralon Mutation long after they stopped needing to, long after the test kits, long after eating anything at all had stopped being a crap shoot. People are still dying from it now. It’s too hard for people to keep waiting and waiting and looking and looking for untainted Zizas. They want to take the risk and eat all of them their bellies can hold. Death doesn’t seem to be much of a deterrent.

Especially death from mutated Zizas. Oh, you come down with the Drools all right, but you do it in the Seventh Heaven. The minute you feel sick, you also feel that funny protein hammering away at the pleasure center in your brain.  You die drooling and moaning in pain, but at the same time you die moaning and sighing and purring with pleasure. Until you run out of breath and that’s that. It’s a very mixed-bag kind of thing. And a lot of people believe that since eventually we’re all going to die after 120 years or so anyway, why not risk it all on the Ziza draw and die in the Seventh Heaven.

And they make a darned good point, for sure.

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all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2012 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.

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